Yesterday Tuvia and I walked on Nassau Street in Princeton, New Jersey. We are early risers and by 9:30 we were in motion.
Princeton is a fairly new discovery for us. My niece attended Westminster Choir College, met her man and never left.
Every time they invite us for a family event, we race to save the date on the calendar. We have our favorite hotel and a diner just down the street and yesterday we found a great Whole Foods Market for early morning coffee and “healthy” brunch desserts.
There is really nothing about Princeton that takes we back to my college days. I loved my days at Hofstra University, but Hempstead was not a college town, but this theater, closed on a Sunday morning of course, takes me back to our artsy theater within walking distance of the dorms.
Every Friday night we made our way to a double bill tailored just for passionate movie lovers thirsty for the challenges of real cinema.
Bergman, Truffaut, Wells, Renior. Fellini, Kurosawa,Rohmer, Godard, Chabrol, De Sica, Camus, Bunuel. They were all there and we drank them in, wondering where they had been all our lives? Where had we been?
And what was a double bill without visit to at our local House of Pancakes after 4 hours in the dark house? We needed the bright lights and the pancake stack to slow us down as we shared the adventures of new heroes and the more authentic images of life offered up by the great foreign film makers.
I am sure that Hofstra offered courses in cinema, but none of us considered sharing our movie passions in a classroom. We didn’t need a professor; we were one-on-one with our new gods.
Friday nights have never been the same!
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