Thomas Wolfe was right . . . you can't go home again.

Well, at least you can't go to Shakey's again.

When I was a kid a trip to Shakey's Pizza was the big thing. There was a Shakey's in Latham, New York that was a regular birthday-party destination, and also a before or after-movie spot when I'd go to see movies at the giant Latham Towne theatre, an old Hellman Theatre, great big screen, fancy lobby, the whole deal. (That's where I saw Jaws 13 times as a kid.)

(An aside: Bad enough the Shakey's disappointed us, but looking up these old Albany theatres that have long since been demolished or turned into car dealerships is hugely bumming me out. Anybody remember The Hellman? The Towne? The Madison, which was the stupid Norma Jean micro-plex and now is gonna be torn down by a stupid CVS? (If anyone has a spare half a mil, it's for sale.) These are the theatres which literally shaped my youth -- those gigantic screens . . . I think mine is the last generation to regularly enjoy the cinema as it is meant to be enjoyed).

Anyway, going to Shakey's was fun back then because a) they had a little bench that kids could stand on to look into the kitchen and watch the pizza being hand-tossed and made before your eyes and b) they would show silent movies on some nights, lots of Laurel & Hardy and Little Rascals, with, if memory serves, a player piano going in the background. It wasn't the best pizza in the world, but it was damned good; and you could watch someone fling it in the air, which was nice.

Well, when we moved out here in July, I was astounded to find the place absolutely crawling with Shakey's Pizza establishments. There is, it seems, one on every block.

So it was with considerable excitement that G and I visited a local Shakey's this evening for dinner. On entry I saw that all was not well: first off, it was far too bright. The Shakey's Pizza Parlor of my youth had a kind of dimly lit, decrepit wood-and-brick charm that lent at least a semblance of authenticity to the second, prosaic half of their name, "& Ye Public House." I think that translated to, "don't worry, Dad -- we sell beer."

This Shakey's was disturbingly shiny and had been, at some point, remodeled from a brick-walled Ye Public House into a beige-walled Ye Cafeteria House. Utterly charmless. First of all, there was no neat little ledge to stand on to watch your pizza being made. In fact, I don't think this pizza is hand tossed at all; the crust seemed prepared in advance. Watching someone remove a prepared pizza crust from a refrigerator is considerably less exciting than the thrilling spectacle of seeing someone repeatedly fling a whirling disc of dough heavenward.

To further disappoint me, instead of silent movies with player piano accompaniment a la the Shakey's of yore, there was an assortment of lame, weatherbeaten arcade games of bygone days, incongruous posters of sporting figures, and about 6 TVs turned to sports networks. So instead of kids being absorbed in a silent film, they are hypnotized by a bunch of lame clanging, banging and flashing. There was very little "Ye," in short.

The pizza was adequate but it did not live up to my memories.

On the whole the place gave the impression of what a Chuck E. Cheese would look like if Mr. Cheese had hit the bottle for a while.

I did a little research when I got home -- yes, I actually wasted some of my time on this -- and found that Shakey's is a California chain. No mention of the Latham Shakey's is to be found. They have branched out to the Philippines, however, at which locations they offer the ominously-named "Rice Surprise" as one of their entrees.

Well, anyway.

There has been so much going on in the last 7 days that I scarcely have time to get into details. School is just the single most incredible thing I have ever done. I mean it is tremendously challenging, invigorating, stimulating, fun, cool, scary, more exciting and demanding than I imagined, and I imagined quite a bit. More than I thought by far. It is also the first time I have been undertaking a professional/career direction which is 100% heart and soul something I believe in all the way. It is a heady feeling! The people at school are marvelous; there's always one or two folks with their heads up their asses, but virtually everyone I've met has been 150% smart, comitted, talented . . .

The first week consisted of a lot of orientation meetings and longgggg editing classes, culminating in a screening for the whole school of the materials all our fellow students sent in with their applications. A jaw-dropping experience (as well as nerve-jangling). There are some talented folks in this school, across a broad spectrum. I was just knocked out by so many folks' stuff, that I felt mine was pitifully inadequate. But later, at a party afterwards, several people told me how much they enjoyed it. And hey, it got me into school, same as them. And we're all in it totgether now.

The schedule for the first week for us editors was insane -- pretty much 9 am - 11 pm every day. And it will go on being crazy for the next 2.5 years, so bear with me.

Meanwhile G got a job, to our profound delight and relief. We also (in a not entirely unrelated way) bought a car for me this weekend, a Honda Element as pictured below. The website has some cool views of the car. For the price point, the space and features can't be beat. It looks cool (I think) and has a kickass stereo. A couple of friends have them and have been most pleased, as am I.

And that's just the beginning. So much has gone down this last week that it is too much for me to summarize in an update. This week the schedule is still nuts but a little more human, so updates -- and phone calls, if I haven't been in touch -- will be forthcoming.