I’m staying at the Pasadena Hilton on this trip, a location that carries a heavy thicket of old memories for me. Not the Hilton itself, but the nearby streets.
When I lived in SoCal, our office used to be over on Lake Ave., just a seven or eight block walk down Cordova to where the Hilton is. I was a big Walker at Lunchtime even then, and that particular route was not uncommon, shaded by lots of trees in the Playhouse neighborhood and west, a nice space to walk and read and ponder about my life.
Margie’s office was just north of the Hilton, and, even before we were romantically involved, we’d sometimes get together for lunch
Those sidewalks and buildings are all riddled with memories from a dozen years ago and before — a lot of them good, some not so much. That particular house. That street crossing. That store. The big Christian Science reading room. That tree. That stretch of sidewalk. It’s always evocative coming back to visit, whether I get out on foot or just drive past those spots on the way to the office from the hotel.