I’m Sad About My Town’s Dead Mall
Malls were probably never a good idea, but I still loved mine.
The Hudson Valley Mall — small, rural, fading into obscurity by the time I arrived here in the mid-nineties — was my most visited destination when my kids were little.
Trips to Target, the ancient arcade, the food court, the movie theater, and that little popup kiosk where we tasted our first cotton candy smoothies — all of it was cherished by my girls (and me).
There’s not much to do in this part of New York in winter. A couple of hours of mall walking and smoothie drinking on a dark, cold Sunday afternoon were always welcome.
I loved escaping to the mall and buying a few treasures for the girls. We had our own routine. We’d park at the Target entrance and make our way through the T-shaped building, stopping at Justice or that sad little toy store before seeking out our smoothies. We’d buy small items — a pair of pink sunglasses for Emily, a tiny stuffed unicorn for Ana, hair accessories and silly socks for everyone.
We’d inevitably end up by the food court where we’d feast like royalty. Then we’d spend a few minutes in the arcade where I’d waste five or ten dollars trying to win a cheap stuffed animal from the claw machine. It was worth every dollar just for the dopamine hit. We’d…
