22 years ago i was sitting in class without a care in the world; well, that's not quite true. I cared about my 1978 Pontiac Grand Prix and the jet black paint-job it had just gotten. i cared about going to the fall fair because that's where the cool kids went and if i was seen there i could be mistaken for one. finally, I cared about The Smiths because Steven Patrick Morrisey spoke to me.
Life was good then, not that it's not good now but 22 years ago i understood the meaning of life at that moment in time.
1989 was the first year that my group of pals went away for the July log weekend. We drove to Sauble beach in Steve's dad's GMC cargo van. We had nowhere to stay so we parked on a dead end street in front of a pretty nice cottage and we slept in/on/under the van. We woke up the first morning and Ed's hands were covers in black grease. to this day we're not sure what happened but i suspect he gave the van a quick lube, oil and filter while we were asleep. Ed was a tool. We walked up and down the beach all day and ate salami sandwiches made on hamburger buns; a true gourmet delight. I wish someone had had enough insight to bring beer. Not much happened that weekend. we didn't know what to do, all we knew was that the cool kids went to Sauble for the weekend and if we were seen there, we might somday break into that elite little social club.
fast forward 22 years and I'm sitting in my kitchen at this unholy hour. i can't remember the last time i was willingly up this late. it's almost 10pm.
i like my kitchen. it's large and open and when the window is open i can hear my Vietnamese neighbour yelling at his wife.
My 3 kids have been in bed for a while now. i may not be too good at parenting but i know how to gt then into bed on schedule like German trains. my friends with kids are pretty impressed with how we are so careful to make sure our kids get enough rest....BULLSHIT! the sooner the little people are in bed the sooner i can have an uninterrupted conversation with my darling spouse about our finances or how long the grass is or my Saturday morning "to do" list.
22 years ago i understood life, now all i understand is that if i don't get to bed in relatively short order, I'll be a miserable SOB when my darling angels drag me, kicking and screaming, out of my warm bed tomorrow morning at 6am because they want a drink/cheerios/their bedroom door open or closed...or my personal favourite "DADDY, COME WIPE MY BUT"....for god's sake, when will they learn to clean their own frigin' asses?
Yea, life ain't so bad, i just don't know how i ended up here.
Life was good then, not that it's not good now but 22 years ago i understood the meaning of life at that moment in time.
1989 was the first year that my group of pals went away for the July log weekend. We drove to Sauble beach in Steve's dad's GMC cargo van. We had nowhere to stay so we parked on a dead end street in front of a pretty nice cottage and we slept in/on/under the van. We woke up the first morning and Ed's hands were covers in black grease. to this day we're not sure what happened but i suspect he gave the van a quick lube, oil and filter while we were asleep. Ed was a tool. We walked up and down the beach all day and ate salami sandwiches made on hamburger buns; a true gourmet delight. I wish someone had had enough insight to bring beer. Not much happened that weekend. we didn't know what to do, all we knew was that the cool kids went to Sauble for the weekend and if we were seen there, we might somday break into that elite little social club.
fast forward 22 years and I'm sitting in my kitchen at this unholy hour. i can't remember the last time i was willingly up this late. it's almost 10pm.
i like my kitchen. it's large and open and when the window is open i can hear my Vietnamese neighbour yelling at his wife.
My 3 kids have been in bed for a while now. i may not be too good at parenting but i know how to gt then into bed on schedule like German trains. my friends with kids are pretty impressed with how we are so careful to make sure our kids get enough rest....BULLSHIT! the sooner the little people are in bed the sooner i can have an uninterrupted conversation with my darling spouse about our finances or how long the grass is or my Saturday morning "to do" list.
22 years ago i understood life, now all i understand is that if i don't get to bed in relatively short order, I'll be a miserable SOB when my darling angels drag me, kicking and screaming, out of my warm bed tomorrow morning at 6am because they want a drink/cheerios/their bedroom door open or closed...or my personal favourite "DADDY, COME WIPE MY BUT"....for god's sake, when will they learn to clean their own frigin' asses?
Yea, life ain't so bad, i just don't know how i ended up here.
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