Saskatoon memories aka, Was I even sober in the 80’s? II
Who here remembers sitting in Paulie’s basement watching Highlander over and over? How many times for Blade Runner? The Hunger?
Cold Saskatoon nights, driving around in a darkened van making Pop Tart dust. EverClear rainbows by the ounce, never mind the gallon mix that they suggest. AC/DC playing loudly, me being led home because I was to drunk to see. And my combats were untied.
Flash forward to Plaza Of Nations. My special love telling everyone that it was her birthday and she brought me trays of beer. Sweet beer! Such nectar. I drowned in the amber, the cold highway that I had known all of my life.
Did I tell her that I loved her? Did I tell any of them that I loved them? I could only let them love me as much as I would allow, not as much as they could. Insufferable, intolerable.
My group of comrades, my friends. Paulie, Christa, Mike and Ian. Crazy days and the nights were worse. We took Dionysian mercurial, earthly delights to new levels. We partied, we lived and we partied some more.
Knives of the Stove, I christen thee Sir Hash!
Turmoil and turmoil. No peace. No rest.
Time slows down as I grow older. Faster.
Each day I wake up I realize that I am dying.