Has it really been close to two weeks?  My, oh my, time really does slip away.  The recent death of the last Ramone, Tommy, set me to thinking, well, contemplating sort of, the completely existential existence thing we call life.

Youth, what a strange, fickle, ephemeral state, it is and though it doesn’t work as well as it once did, together we can take a trip down my memory lane.

During the Ramones heyday of the early eighties, I think I was spending a lot of time around M1 Abrams tank sights, living the dream of firepower, little money, and lots of partying.

After my stint with tank sights, I found my way back to Athens, Georgia, and University.  An earlier attempt having resulted in a glorious flameout, my second effort would only be marginally better.

At the time a very popular local band, REM, was making good, and to my mind captured the moment best, “Ooh, we were little boys, Ooh, we were little girls”.  HaHa, what a wonderful line!  There was so much music, so much art, so many young, pretty people.  The rent was cheap.

The food, and alcohol, and drugs, were even cheaper.  I embraced everything, soaked it up, believed in it, cared not for the future, understood not the future.  Went to class; didn’t go to class, fell in love; fell out of love; had lots of sex, had no sex; cared, didn’t care.

And, true story, became a character in a song, from an album, by a band.

Now, of course, it is a hazy, distant memory, though I do wonder if I’ll be like those elderly ones who remember way back when so clearly, as if it were yesterday.