10. Lose Myself

Hey Bucky.

So, new priority: start writing down a long, long list of all the things I need to get caught up on from the last seventy years, and not just historical things, but cultural things. Fury got me into the world-saving business so quickly that I didn't really have time to reflect on just how much the world had changed, and now I'm seeing it's more than just technology and fashion. It's culture overall, and I'm out of my element. At this point you could point and laugh at me and I'd be laughing right with you.

I'm not settling in Philly. It's got some great points to it: the Liberty Bell is still here, like an old friend. We both felt antique and out of our times as we stood there on a sunny Philadelphia day. Small children ran around, giggling and asking an adult-probably a teacher-why they couldn't ring the bell. The woman was endlessly patient. She kind of reminded me of our second grade teacher. I just hung back. Didn't want to cause a scene. The poor Bell didn't need to be overshadowed by some other outdated symbol, even if I did just help save New York from aliens.

While shawarma wasn't quite what I'd expected (not sure I expected anything, to be honest), Philly cheesesteak sandwiches are worth coming out of the ice for. Eating one, listening to the sounds of the city around me, it was almost like being back home, getting a hot dog and sitting in a park or down by the shore. I couldn't help but remember that time you scrounged up enough change to get a hot dog, and then a seagull swooped in and pulled it right out of your hand. I'd never seen you so angry. Until of course that time in Europe, when you blasted that Hydra agent with his own gun. Whatever Zola did to you changed you; I don't hold it against you, I never could. I wish you'd have survived, for lots of reasons, but most of all so we could have figured out what he did and get you back to yourself again. You'd probably enjoy Philly cheesesteaks.

And you're probably wondering about the pop culture thing. When I was on my way out to the helicarrier with Phil, he made some references I didn't get. Then Fury mentioned flying monkeys, and all I could think of was when we saw the Wizard of Oz. You told your kid sisters that the monkeys were going to come get them in their sleep. Your mother was so upset with you! But I understood Fury's reference. And I think people tend to speak in pop culture references a lot these days; it's kind of a shared knowledge, one I definitely do not possess. Being encapsulated in ice for seventy years will leave a guy kind of cut off from that sort of thing.

Philadelphia has an art museum. I used to really love going to the museum in New York, especially once I started at art school. There was something soothing about being surrounded by beautiful things. It was quiet. The art didn't judge me. A hundred eyes staring out from portraits, and not one painting had a thing to say to or about me. I think I needed that today. Instead I found people running up the stairs to the museum-most getting pretty winded partway up. And when they did haul themselves to the top of the steps, they'd pump their fist at the sky and yell, "Yo Adrian!"

I don't know who Adrian is. I don't know why Adrian warrants strangers running up the steps of an art museum-running up and not going in, I should add. Part of me was tempted to take the whole flight in a few seconds, but then I remembered I wanted to lay low while I try to sort things out.

I lost myself in the museum until about closing time, and then asked the janitor about the Adrian thing. He looked at me like I had multiple heads until I took off my hat and he realized who I was. Then he just laughed and told me to watch Rocky on Netflix. Bucky… what is Netflix? Who is Rocky? I jotted down "Rocky" in the back of this notebook. Then I added Thai food, remembering Natasha's recommendation. I think I'm just going to keep a list of things I need to get up to speed on. Things I need to know to help me navigate the world. I can't stay lost forever.

When looking for a place for dinner I passed by a little hole in the wall place advertising shawarma. It's only been a few days, maybe a week, but I think I miss my team. Even Stark. I didn't go in; I miss them, but not so much I want to recreate the shawarma experience. I kept walking and paused in front of a Thai place. I stared through the window and tried to remember that big globe in the high school library, and where Thailand was. And then I realized maybe it wasn't even Thailand at that point in time. Even countries have changed identities.

I passed on the Thai. I'm not ready for that yet. I think I'll just have another cheesesteak.

Stay cheesy,

Steve