NOTE: Before I start, I'd just like to shout out the anonymous reader who messaged me to say she finally understands the message behind my post entitled Have you seen my white chick?' Some readers still don't get it but long-live assumption.
Ok so this sojourn outside the realms of London Zones 1-6 for the past four months has plunked me into a state of nostalgia and retrospective thought. Perhaps I'm missing the endearing frolics of life in the Big L ever so slightly.
Side Note: There's technically 1-9 Zones but what business do I have doing in Moor Park? As for me London stops after Wood Green - the rest is village. Cue boos from the Arnos Grove/Cockfosters lot.
So to remedy the burden I've been going through archives of pics and vids ranging from the Amsterdam Weekender of '07 (salute all who attended - big trip) to birthday parties in '92. Looking back at the good times like some old veteran reminiscing about the war and their long-lost sweetheart. Longing after the care-free escapades of my youth again like knock-down ginger, kiss chase and typing 'ASL' when you added a new chick on MSN Messenger. Sign of getting old I guess. Confirmation of this saddening fact was no more resounding than when I got into a 'back in my day' discussion with this five year old kid who hadn't a clue as to what a cassette was - MAAAATEEE!
Like generations before, I'm adamant 'my day' was infinitely better than any other: music, fashion & lifestyle wise - we did it best but I'm sure the 60 and 70's babies would beg to differ. I recall a debate raging on about if Lionel Messi was the best ever to grace the pitch. Panel members of a youthful disposition were in no doubt. This however pinched the nipples of the older participants who cited Maradonna as a far superior player. DM was probably the footballing hero of their day so for 'inexperienced' fans to overlook an all-time legend for one of the modern greats was a disservice to them. Same with music. Few would argue the Cash/Young Money movement are running tings in the Hip-Hop arena right now. However dare you say Drake or Weezy are better rappers than Slick Rick or Big Daddy Kane to a veteran Hip-Hop fan, and they'll scold you with their walking stick.
Truth is, these things are all relative. The days of our youth are usually a period of discovering our world, our experiences and ourselves. The avid 50's baby story would differ from that of the 90's babies of Generation-X but it doesn't make our likes, dislikes, culture and upbringing any less credible. Instead we should embrace trend differences in that when 12 year old Maxwell stops your Heartless Crew record to play a track from MC Killer MacKill's mixtape, endure the ordeal with a smile if only for two minutes; he'll appreciate it.
So being an 80's baby I leave you a visual token of my juvenile delinquent days. Happy Sunday and all that jazz. Tick.