May
20
2008
Up On The Eight
Queued up to get on the 8 the other day, nice sun through the dirty windows, no breeze, leghairs out in the open. Short sleeves for the first time in months and the sun feels good on the arms and legs. Boothaired bastard gets on in front of, steel toes dangling over his shoulder. Two hardhats at the backdoor, one with his harness mounted backsidefront so that he looks like a real tool. Grab a seat at the back and find that some shitbaste left the two rear windows open. Yeah, it’s warm, but when the bus is crusing along at 60k, the wind gets a little chilly. I shut the windows and plunk down, survey the scene. Older shorthair dame at the front again – I’ve seen her on this run a few times but she’s mostly on the bus earlier. Saw her on the one earlier than that a few weeks back. Short crop, red, dress to the knees, might be 60.
Past the 7-11 and the hardhats are out, young kids are in. Going to school this early? Are you cracked? Apparently not. One whips out his Nano and starts tapping to the beat, the girl yaks on her phone and the other boy looks at his shoes. Few stops down some cretin with mega headphones gets on, sits right beside me. What? Do I look inviting or something? Let me know, I’ll work on it. Cranks up the volume to fierce level. I can hear Metallica followed by the entire Diver Down album by VH. Strangely, I find myself tapping along to Little Guitars. I’m actually digging this kid’s style. I didn’t think too many younger kids did the VH. This kid reminds me of me 24 years ago, sitting on the 74 Northgate listening to the same thing. I think I melted my copy of Diver Down. Left it on David Chasky’s dash one fine afternoon in 1986. Diver is still one of VH’s best, in my opinion.
Downtown it’s the usual shit. Skatepunks showing their asses and trying to land tricks. BMX hoods riding the square and being. Sundresses are blooming much to the delight of the milling suits. Sun slices off some building glass and cuts a white hot stroke in the middle of the road. Stand in it long enough you’ll get burnt, run through it fast enough it’ll splay like a lover’s hand. I just got off the bus. Down the street with Intruder in my brain. Street moaning low.
