Like most, I remember the years of maturity coming into adulthood, reaching your late teens, and then beginning your twenties, I remember experiences of those years more favorably than other times. I sometimes remember those years more favorably than, indeed, they may have been.
I remember one night, the summer of the year 2000 it could have been, that I decided a change of scenery would do me good. I sneaked off to Toronto for a night of bands and the like, being then a smidgen wilder then than I am today.
The night was unique, for different reasons, but wouldn’t you know that when the witching hour was upon me, I had begun to make friends with a couple of other young guys, cool to me for their moxie–would you say there’s a three-letter-word for that? The two young gents told me where we could get something to drink, to keep the night lively. For nothing too expensive, we could keep having a good time.
We were enjoying another band, where I’d never been, with a glass of moonshine and the two of them the same, until one of the boys told me, awfully, that some other patrons had brought a gun, and we should go. That unnerved me, unfortunately, so caution prevailed.
I bid the two a polite goodbye, leaving them with my number back home in the suburbs, this being only the year 2000 I recollect. It was my parents’ number, for a later time to summon me to meet again.
The last few remaining hours of the night I spent, sadly, like a derelict, waiting for the morning transit. What is memorable, though, I twenty years later is that of the times I made a commute like that, this night, the one I am recounting, and some other nights like that, are typical of what shape my favorite memories of that time in my life.
It’s a brief story–you might not believe it. However, I think I could recall, maybe, a thousand specific experiences from those years. It is interesting what people interpret as memorable. I wanted this morning to touch base with those folk I connect with on WordPress.
I hope your autumn is going great.