Often times we think back to how long we've known our friends and how much has changed. Constantly dwelling on the past, or reflecting, however you choose to see it.
Sometimes when you get together with your ol' chums you reminisce on how 25¢ chips actually had more chips than air. Remember spending a whole dollar on Swedish Fish, Sour Patch, Bazooka Joe, & Caramel candies? All the while feeling like the richest kid in the store. How about collecting those stickers you'd buy in packs for two dollars and get three sheets of fuzzy puppy stickers, or scented flowers, maybe just something glittery? Half-pint drinks you crushed and stuck on your bike wheel when you were done with 'em for that motorbike feel? Tropical fantasies actually came in plastic bottles! Surge, anyone?
I'm sure we all have one thing about when we were younger that we used to always do. That one customary thing that you just can't anymore. Not because you're too old(technically you can still throw toilet paper wads at the ceiling to watch them stick with sick amazement), but because you're just unable to find the means to. Most spots kids used to skate back in the day have been either torn down or remodelled to be unskateable. The days of arcades are all but dead, used to be you couldn't go more than 5 blocks without finding one. How about our playgrounds? Made of wood and metal, and what is this nonsense with the rubber mats? How are we conditioning our children if they aren't burned with the scalding metal of a slide sitting in the sun all day? No surprise splinters as you try to escape "prison" without touching the floor? How about mixtapes that were actually on casette tapes? Remember the time and effort you put into making that perfect tape for someone? The songs had to flow together just right and portray exactly what you wanted them to.
I suppose I'm just ranting, but, fuck it. A couple of weeks ago I was sketching. This is a miracle, really, as I've been creatively inept for the past 2 or 3 years now. So here I am, pencil to the paper, going at it, and I must say, I'm doing quite the stellar job. Or at least was, now I need an eraser. Well, Dr. C, why not just flip your pencil upside down? I'll tell you why, young fool, because I was using a pencil specific for light sketches, these don't come with erasers on the end. At least not the one I have.
So, here I am, in dire need of an eraser. When I was a kid, I could go to the store on the corner for those pink erasers, you know, the sort that leave your paper slightly pink when you erase too much? Normally not my first choice, but I was a woman in need. Only they don't have erasers. In fact, the Arabic man at the counter thought I was asking for razors. So I trekked it on down to the local pharmacy. In my mind I was sure that I'd find a whole nifty pack of erasers. Apparently, erasers, too, have been rendered obsolete. After walking from store to pharmacy every few blocks, I remembered a stationary store nearby. Too bad when I got there, it was closed. So I spent all day walking all over the place trying to find an eraser, wondering what these dumb children use in school?
I suppose this was just one really long tangent of my frustration that day, but, I was out for four hours trying to find the damn things. You'll be happy to know I went to the stationary store on a weekday and bought five of the little fuckers.
