My knees hurt and my gray hair is starting to wilt. I suspect the rains will come earlier than usual this year. Do you remember many moons ago when it poured relentlessly on this city? 28 DAYS IN A ROW! Oh what a time it was! Kids jumping in puddles and the swing sets roared with tired sounds.
If only I could live once again in those fruitfull days of hoodies, great dress and rock and roll! Oh what fun! Melancholy girls littered the pavement while tattooded skin and blue barbed helmets perspired in the crying mist. This was the age of kings my friend!
Granville was teeming with partying young hoodlums and commercial was actually bellowing with interesting people! At every twist and turn there remained great adventure still to be found! Bums littered the doorsteps of art galleries and junkies named Bob occasionally asked me for money in exchange for harmonic renditions of overplayed sonatas. This was a city where grammatical errors were not seen as big deals, and No5 Orange was still the #1 hotspot for gangland executions.
Oh those were the days. The olympics were upon me then. Glossy lights and boys in Ed Hardy tee-shirts roamed the streets prouncing about in jovial moods. Perhaps it was just a simpler time. A momentary lapse of infinity where no game was needed to date the unsuspectingly beautiful girls of Vancouver. Where prissy wanna be gangsters thought they owned a town where in most cases they would be laughed at in every turn.
Oh the memories.
But now I sit alone in my chair while crows squawk in bemusement at the shattered wanderings of a lazy elf. Oh to be young again.
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