What’s weird is: Just about everybody who was hanging out on the scene back then (aside from me and Hate Man) is long gone. They all moved on. Or died.
And yet I’m still here. 25 years later. So I keep wondering: How did that happen?
One of the depressing things about the street scene: It tends to weed out the cool people over the years. When you’re young, you’ll meet a lot of dynamic young people on the streets. Bohemians. Artists. Musicians. Adventurers who are attracted to the wildness and freedom of the streets. And interesting people experimenting with alternative lifestyles.
But over the years, the ones that have something on the ball, tend to move on from the streets. They get married. Start families. Get jobs and careers. Find homes. And the wild ones — the adventurers — eventually tone down as they age. Or burn out (plenty of those). And all that’s left on the street scene is mostly just the dregs. The ones who are on the streets because they have nowhere else to go. And nothing else to do.
Well. Another depressing blog from ole’ Ace Backwords. Ha ha.