Places
Almost one year ago, I shared a quote about Andre Aciman's perspective on the difficulty of finding a sense of belonging, when the past, both real and imagined, is taken away from us in Elsewhere On-Screen.
Recently, rereading Ann Helen Petersen's piece, Hometown's Finest, I encountered a similar observation, along with reflections on what we have instead of places.
Fazzari’s Pizza opened in 1985 and as far as I can tell the only thing they’ve changed about the entire operation is the existence of a website and modest increases in price. The building itself — the same. The sign — the same. The maroon polo shirts and ballcaps — absolutely the same. The long tables big enough for an entire t-ball team, the slightly elevated corner of the restaurant that used to be the smoking section, the physical menus, the red plastic cups filled with crushed ice and Root Beer, the soft golden lighting, all the same.
...You can’t order online. Forget about Postmates. They’ve never remodeled. And when I was there to pick up enough pizza so that we could eat it for at least three meals, I marveled at how lived-in it felt, how inviting. Not shabby, just a place you really want to be.
...optimization and remodel culture robs spaces of that heart. I’m sure MOD Pizza, the latest upstart in the pizza world, makes a lot more money. It’s slicker, faster, easier. But it’s not a place, it’s a product — a profit center. You can always tell, can’t you, when a restaurant’s primary purpose is to make a bunch of people who’d probably never eat there a whole bunch of money.