The next time your in the mood for a wide-ranging philosophical conversation with two of your oldest and best friends about how one’s roots shape the person you are, I know just the right location: the original Nathan’s in Coney Island.
Okay, so maybe this particular choice of location makes a little more sense for me, but I’m hoping there’s something universally relatable about the experience.
Yes, I’m from Brighton Beach and Coney Island, and about two weeks ago two of my buddies from high school–both of whom ended up raising their own families in California (San Francisco and Los Angeles, respectively)–joined me for a day trip to the old neighborhood. By the time we got to Nathan’s in the mid-afternoon, we had already spent the morning meandering around our old high school (Lincoln) with a few former teachers (now retired), and had lunch (Nathan’s was the later lunch) with our teachers at a diner in Sheepshead Bay.
Here’s what I have to say: I have no idea whether any of my former teachers or my friends were, per se, inspirations. But what I realized more clearly now than ever before was that–wow–I was very lucky to have a childhood filled with dedicated and interesting teachers, and funny and ambitious friends.
I didn’t have a childhood I needed to get over, or a void of connection and identity to fill. My early youth overflowed with characters and a sense of place, and I graduated with dreams to pursue.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected].
