August 8, 2003
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Harvard Square
Once in a blue moon I wander into the old turf and look for wanton signs of the crew, scope out the 02138 pit, have ice cream at Herrell’s, and make sure the bead store is alive and well.
Everything is still running smoothly, and all the degenerate rats were still there, and Algiers still smells like hazelnut and overpriced espresso. We cruised past Lee’s, and jimmy was behind the green counter tormenting some fries, and I can still cross any traffic except JFk iwith a yankee glower. I snarled at Abercrombie, and the fleet bank is ridiculously huge and way off the human scale. Urban’s is my perennial closet, and I got in touch with my choir friend from junior high over rocketdog sneakers. Isabelle’s cafe is doing very well despite the yawning maw of nearby ABP, and all else proved to be blossoming well. i can almost hear the Orb playing in my head, decked in diesel skirt with a bag full of paint markers and my hair all spiky…..
Ah, the good old days.
