Recently I traveled around my hometown for a few days, my surreal grand tour through my youth. Things have changed over time, with indifferent feeling I meandered the town observing modern development and encroaching decay as I paid my respects to the OG buildings, businesses and hangouts no longer standing tall. It's a divide in time, that which I fondly remember and what there is now. I may return to the schools I attended, for loyalty and curiosity. I shall miss those restaurants, corner café, Irish pub and peculiar stores I frequented that are no more, they certainly will be missed. Many familiar faces are the ghostly reflections in passing. The familiar feeling remains, same sights, sounds and smells buried in accompany to my fondest memories. I often think my close circle of friends could podcast about our hometown reminisce, we'd laugh a lot and our listening audience would cancel us. With the themes of Middle Earth freshly resurfaced in mind I wonder why the comparison of art and life are indistinguishable. It comes with age, perhaps we only live four ages, perhaps I am hovering near the end my third age approaching the beginning of my fourth age. Who knows, there might podcast material when old friends meet over a pint to remember Tubthumping.
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away...
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