Most of my long lifetime has been spent living in the Maryland or Virginia suburbs of Washington, D.C., and it was for years and years my downtown. Unfortunately, the changes are immense. The wonderful department stores and shops once to be found only on F Street, Northwest, are long gone. First, they migrated to suburban shopping strips, then huge malls, then disappeared to be replaced by other names and other brands. No more Garfinckel's, Woodies, Hecht's, Kahn's, Lansburgh's or Jelleff's. Anyone besides me still alive to remember those? F Street was a winter wonderland at Christmas, with the windows marvels of make believe. My childhood allowed me to board a bus out in Chevy Chase and head down on my own to see all of this and have lunch in Woodies tea room, carefully picking out gifts for a list of family members. That world does not exist any longer.
As for the public monuments, museums and galleries; I have lived long enough to remember when many of them were dedicated and opened for the first time! No, NOT the Washington monument! ( My family used to love telling how I, at aged four, told of having gone up in the "moneymint" one day. ) But I remember going to a private invitation pre-opening and appreciation party for the "Mellon Gallery," which we now know as the National Gallery of Art. I was something like thirteen at the time. You cannot imagine the frisson of horror I feel when I hear that, say, the FBI building is crumbling and needs to be replaced and I can remember when they moved in with great pride and hoopla regarding this wonderful and supposedly permanent replacement for their previous quarters! Happens to me ALL THE TIME!
Yes, I used to haunt the various galleries, small and large, to enjoy the treasures displayed there. Now the traffic between here and there is, for the motion-sensitive body old age has gifted me with, an emotional deterrent equivalent to the thought of the six hundred galloping full speed into the Valley of Death; I just cannot handle it, and so I don't go any longer. I, who once upon a time loved nothing more than setting off by train, plane, ship, bus, automobile or bicycle Sad, so very sad, but also very final.