I’ve been walking to the same Foodtown for 16 years, but yesterday was the first time I counted: 7 blocks, 21 minutes.
The walk, as always, was punctuated with tree-lined streets, beautiful front gardens, the brownstones in Brooklyn you hope to live in one day, and restaurants of all kinds that could satisfy the pickiest of eaters. Signs pledging “Black Lives Matter,” “I Voted For Her,” and “Freeze the Rent” hung outside unconsciously expensive apartment windows. The neighborhood that had been my neighborhood made me feel more like a tourist and less like a native these days.
Read More