What We Miss – The New York Times

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Welcome. one year Epidemic living and Apathy is a continuation. Memories of the pre-pandemic past, when things were simple or safe, are easily accessed. We remember the careless way we left home without masks last February or March. But, as your letters show, we are remembering things from long before 2020: saline water on the boardwalk at Asbury Park in the 1930s. Billy Joel’s final concert at Shia Stadium. My place A smartphone-less before landline and answering machines. Nostalgia serves, as reporter Danielle Campomar puts it, “An emotional pacifier“In times of trauma or stress.

So many of you wrote with news of cultural indifference to cultural experiences from the recent and distant past.

Tim Gihring dreams of a video store in Minneapolis: “I remember telling someone what I wanted to see, not an algorithm. I remember taking the approval of the man at the counter who never came.

Loretta Healy is going to be 80 years old and is moving from her home in Gualala, California. Going through the books, reading books 20 and 17: “I am very indifferent about reading and reading them in bed.”No fighting, no fighting!‘(About two baby crocodiles) or’Princess farbolFor them until they fall asleep.

“On a summer evening when I was bored and living in Los Angeles,” Todra Payne, a digital nomadic person living in Montenegro, wrote, “I was looking for my jeans and a tank top and browsing skylight books on the street Will run for. New releases, often an author I forgot to sign up to catch reading, but was glad I stumbled into. “

For Judith Boland at Wellesley, it’s the smell of other people. “Bones coming from the cold of winter in New York, squeezing through doors and security lines at The Met,” she wrote. “The smell of damp street clothes kept in cold coats, coats that only come out of the closet for a special occasion, as someone’s perfume unbuttoned their scarf, perhaps a faint puff of shoe polish, cooked as we Also passes are inexpensive restaurants half way up the Velvet Stairs for our seats. “

Ann Gosch in Tacoma, Wash., Remembers the “spontaneous interactions with outside-level friends” she would attend at the library or gym.

Ann Williams, from Cleveland Heights, Ohio, remembers “all the little rituals” of participating in a live musical performance: “Humble greetings to people in the next few seats, reading program notes, listening to tunes, waiting in amazement, as The first movement breaks. Like a wave on the audience, loose coughing is banned between the first and second movements. “

Nancy Carlisle in Ipswich, Mass., Is exhibiting at museums: “I remember walking from one gallery to another in awe. I miss whispered conversations, rich colors on the walls, high ceilings, decorative architectural features. I miss John Singer Sergeant and Winslow Homer and John Singleton Copley. I remember sitting in the museum dining room surrounded by women at lunch time. I remember browsing through tchotchkes in museum stores. “

Like The Times’s own Jeremy Allen, who remembered his old neighborhood after the apartment, poured himself in History of Greenwich Village; Or Amanda Hess, who took Asylum in a video game Since her childhood last March, we can discover more than ordinary comforts Discover our apathy. It can help us identify what matters to us, what we want to include in our dreams or future plans.

In a few words, tell us one thing which has been helping you to live a full and cultured life at home recently. Is it a song, a book, a recipe, an idea? write to us: Athome@nytimes.com. Include your full name, age and location and we may include your entry in a future newspaper. We are doing At home. We will read every letter sent. More ideas of passing time appear below. See you on friday

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