The Decade that was....I think...

Though the decade has already passed us well over a week ago (11 days and 11 hours to be sort of exact at the time of production), I find nothing wrong with a little more reflection on the ten years that were. Because the way I see it, in my head, is that good memories these days are rarely documented in our heads anymore, only jotted in the way of quick party pics and even quicker (and less reliable) tweets and on-line communicator whatnot's - blogs included, of course. Why try to remember when the proof is an easy and brainless click, flip, or scroll away. In due time, the cell phone will be a strategic ally in the world's take down of itself. Anyhow, hearsay and selective memory isn't quite what it used to be. How can it be when your entire social life is chronologically and efficiently recorded by yourself and everyone around you in a tidy little folder with cute little labels like "Wasaga Rules '08, or "Mel's Sick Bash." Hmmm. "I didn't do that," or "That wasn't me," are no longer viable defences against the uploaded and tagged pic but from a different angle already seen and commented on by everyone you know - before you even upload the same pic from your portable, small and convenient picture taking device. Incrimination by association. If you live your life hooked up to a phone - you are associated with it. Pictures speak a thousand words, but who's the author when everyone's got a pen? Think about it, or don't. Either way you'll be fine, I assume. Anyways, let us begin with a little self-reflection of my last 10 years on this here planet called earth. The year 2000, I was 20 - Y2K, Bush vs. Gore, the Texas 7 and PlayStation II happened behind my life. At 20, I knew it all and was intent on proving the world wrong (or just not listening to anyone and acting foolishly). I spent most of my time in the Essex County area, besides a few quick jaunts to TO, northern Ontario and downtown Detroit. However you put it, I was on my own in Windsor, recently dropped out of Machine Shop college (thanks Citywide Vacuum) and working and living all over the city for no other reasons than to pay for the rent and a little weekend booze. What a life. It was so awesome I barely remember what I did between 20 and let's say 24. However, I do remember a few things from that time period - even without the help of a cell phone camera, picture happy friends, a tripod, mirror or an on-line community account. This I know: I broke my leg at a Korn concert, caught a huge and garbage-eating raccoon with a hockey stick, some rope and the cap of my 1988 decaled and ground-effected Ford Ranger, moved into a soon-to-be rat infested house with a black guy from Harrow named Melcolm and Ryan, joined a metal band as a bass player (though I had never ever been in a band or played bass before, but I did like metal and had some free time), and was fired after two hard years from a slaughterhouse after an argument with the prick owner (his name was Neil and he sure was a prick). I enjoyed the Loop, The Shelter, Wheatley Provincial, 4375 Howard and 2297 Cadillac, got kicked in the teeth by a rabid Hatebreed fan in London, worked at a gas station, a cemetery (twice), a butcher shop, Chrysler's power washing gunk at midnight for 30 bucks/hour (too bad I only worked 8 hours/week, and sold state of the art super duper but overly expensive vacuums (for half a day b/c Mom wouldn't, smartly may I add - buy one), I also drank a lot of coffee and listened to a lot of music with Brian and Craig and others on Goyeau, in cars, on porches, from mezzanines and on chairs. Good times. Then came the middle of the decade, which happened to coincide with the middle of my twenties - that's what happens when you're born in the first year of a new decade. These memories are more clear, vivid and productive. Because they are fresher, perhaps happier and fulfilling. Productive in terms of my personal development, aging process, and musical advancement, but not in terms of making the moolah. Actually, from 23 or so to 25 or so I continued to make some cold hard cash at the el factorino but spent most of it on amps, guitars, P.A's, speakers, car insurance and repairs, gas, booze, strings, gifts for my new g/f Katie, guitar pics, gas, booze, you know - normal 23 or so to 25 or so year old stuff. Let's see here, the middle of the two thousands to about now have been relatively similar but still different in their own ways. St. Clair was replaced by the University, Journalism with Communications, Lansdowne with Janette, then Lansdowne again for a short time and then Campbell. Who Shot J.R. for The Suicide Club and then Threat Level Midnight. I traded money for time, the Honda for the Cruiser, an old p.c for a new p.c, the BR8 for the Mbox 2, Collaboration for Dragonfly then for Attack, this for that, that for whatever - you get the picture. Change it slightly around and then you'll see it for sure.