There were several episodes of the television show “The Twilight Zone” that dealt with a character’s traveling to a bygone era, whether before he was born-the most famous was the one about Willoughby-or to his much younger days. Those episodes always depicted drooling over the past as a nightmarishly dysfunctional thing, characteristic of a dissatisfied overwhelmed adult who couldn’t cope with his real life. If I could go back to an earlier part of my life, I should like to revisit any part of my school days. Although I most certainly recognize quite well that the time I spent in school wasn’t all one long halcyon era, looking back upon it has always been quite an enjoyable experience for me. By conventional standards I was never the least bit popular in school. In a way I was the kind of kid who could be classified as a square. Then, as now, I neither liked, nor was good at sports. My sense of humor was, and still is, entirely offbeat. When I was at St. Gabriel’s, in East Elmhurst, Queens, I was an altar boy and a member of the glee club and bowling league. The Sisters of Charity, De La Salle Christian Brothers, and lay teachers on the faculty were quite exceptional and the kids I knew were really good too. Then came two weeks at Copiague Junior High School, immediately followed by two years at Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Lindenhurst. I’ve always remembered that part of my life as my especially uncomfortable transitional time, though I enjoyed it quite a bit. In high school, at St. John the Baptist, in West Islip, I had such a good time bluffing my way past the Dominican and Franciscan Sisters and laity on the faculty, and the kids I knew were really good too. I was involved with the chess club and student council. The time I spent at S.U.N.Y. Farmingdale was also quite exceptional. The professors and students were very good people and the campus was one of the nicest looking places I’ve ever seen. I lived in Lindenhurst all throughout my adolescence, as well as for most of my adulthood. From the point of view of negative constructive criticism, I should like to go back as a somewhat less shy, more confident kind of character. The neighborhoods I grew up in were quite fine too. Jackson Heights was populated by quite a cast of colorful characters, and approximately two thirds of the people in my neighborhood were Italians who spoke only Italian, and Hispanics who spoke only Spanish. Everybody was forced to get to know everyone there. Lindenhurst has always been noted for its emphasis on peace and quiet. My neighborhood there, known as the American Venice, was on a very small island that was perfect for someone like me who enjoys a relaxed environment. In each neighborhood the business district was very close and there were very many activities available. Everybody knows about the grandfather paradox. It’s a condition on time travel. Nobody can undo the very significant events of his past, or of the past in general. If I could go back to my past, I’d tell young Larry to loosen up a bit about all the hard parts, and that ultimately everything works out. I’m now back in touch, on Facebook, with many people from my youthful days. I’ve seen a lot of them in person over the course of my adult years too. I can’t literally go back to the days of my youth but there’s no harm in sneaking a peek or two at my younger persona every once in a while.
Palestinians are at the heart of the conflict in the M.E Palestinians uprooted by force of arms.. Yet faced immense difficulties have survived, kept alive their history and culture, passed keys of family homes in occupied Palestine from one generation to the next.