When a Core Memory Burns to the Ground
Yes, this sentiment also works as a metaphor and we’ll get to that in a moment. But, what about when this happens literally?
I should preface this by saying that although I’m someone who has chosen a career and life of constant change I am actually not a fan of it. Or, if I’m being really honest, I want the things I know well to remain constant as I continue to evolve. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? That the cool beach-like bohemian restaurant I took my kids to since they were little babies remains the exact same completely unchanged? Please don’t ever buy new plastic tablecloths or ketchup holders! I don’t want them! Give me 1980’s or give me nothing!
This wish was fulfilled for the almost 20 years we went to the legendary Island Cafe on Toronto Island until this past weekend when it was reduced to ashes by a huge fire which to many, felt like a death. It was also the home to a historic building that was the hub of the Island community. I then did as I’m sure many others did as well and immediately searched through my camera for dozens of photos of birthdays, evenings watching live bands, poetry readings, french fry orders, sangria pitchers and free kale. For those on the east coast think cool crab shack on the Long Island Sound and it comes pretty close to the vibe of this place. Sure the prices got higher and the summer line ups longer but it still always felt the same. Certainly the bathrooms never changed.
I then started to wonder, how does one not sink into the sadness of unexpected change?
I thought back to the changes in my life and the one that stands out is the cancellation of Full Frontal. Please feel free to roll your eyes that I’m following up the burning down of a beloved historic building with the end of a seven season run of a feminist lead political satire show. I get it, not the same thing. But, it still had that no going back feeling. Covid had changed the show and unlike some of the larger budgeted late night shows that just moved right back into their spaces we needed to pivot to a smaller production model. This still allowed us to cover the topics that we were passionate about but in more of a work-from-home model. When Full Frontal was officially canceled (a change we saw coming when networks merged) I was on-set directing a TV series on what was supposed to be our Full Frontal hiatus so fortunately I was very busy and could delay any feelings of “OH CRAP. OH NO. THIS REALLY SUCKS”. I’ve had many since and especially while reading the news and noting that our show would cover a topic with a certain level of finesse that others would not. Like:
Or
That pregnant women can’t get a divorce in Missouri? - What? Sorry…WHAT?
It’s so incredibly glaring that late night is still so completely void of a female host. I mean COME ON. But that’s for a different substack.
I will pivot to gratitude because I think that’s the point of all of this. I feel grateful that our show was on the air at all and I am always grateful for my dear friend Sam. I can immediately think of dozens of stories and especially people that I just feel thankful for experiencing. They have become core memories for me. I changed as a person during Full Frontal as my world expanded.
So when it all ends is gratitude the answer to not sinking into sadness?
(Please note that if it’s a break up and the other person has done something terrible there is a period of fuck them that is not only permissible but absolutely necessary).
I was relieved to hear that the seasonal Island Cafe and community building was empty when it caught fire. No one was hurt and the community is so incredibly organized and spirited that there is no doubt a new building will soon be resurrected, the gardens will be in full swing and there will be leafy lettuce give-aways in no time. There is no replacing the morning coffee order or looking through the windows and seeing the trophies and old photographs in the clubhouse. But I’m grateful that I’m able to reflect on how that place has impacted my memories of summer. I will be 100% buying tickets for the barn-raising fundraiser. Count on it.
So is gratitude the answer to everything?* Is it better than vitamin d? Please tell me. What’s your gratitude vice? Yelling in the car? Talking to yourself? Meditation? Writing it down? Don’t tell me to start a journal. Let’s be reasonable.
xoAllana
(*unless you take my rights away as a living breathing human woman then I will dream of ripping out your loins…so don’t do that okay?)
Same feels when they levelled the community hall in my hometown, which was built by the original Swedes and Finns who founded it. If I could have snagged a piece of floorboard before it went down, it would hang on my mantle—just plain, not with "gratitude" scribbled across it.
I grew up outside Hamilton. Growing up we spent a lot of time at The Dairy. It closed and now us a retirement home. Not burned to the ground but still gone. I drive past it whenever I go home and it makes me sad. Yes the beach one is still there. My mom went there. At least it’s there. Ice cream is different now but I’d still argue SC Dairy is the best.