On My Island
Weblogging is often a great exercise for my crap memory, so here’s a lil story that must be told:
I must have been about 10 years old when my parents had a teachers’ conference in the Azores, those beautiful islands in the middle of the Atlantic, smack-dab between New York and Lisbon. Naturally being the young son, I tagged along. I had pretty much never been on an island before, not including Manhattan, and certainly not a archipelago of volcanic orgin.
What I remember best of all, was sitting through what would have been boring ass presentations. Everyone was jotting down notes, while I – the token child – sketched fishing boats and sea monsters. They were to be gifts for the twenty something year old teacher from San Jos?, who I had fallen in love with on day 1. She would happily review my drawings and read the clever notes I would write to her, then she’d pat me on the head and give me words of encouragement which made me feel like a million bucks.
That was my thing… draw.. meet girl 20 years older than me… have crush,, draw some more. Ahhh the good old days.
Oh and wouldn’t you know it.. now they’ve got fucking European Blog Awards, they won’t be satisfied til they’ve made the internet a carbon copy of the stupid-ass entertainment industry. Not linking it… cause that would just encourage the fools.
Today’s Sounds: Goin Deep Podcast – inauguration Retardation