On a wall in St.Paul

"The world is so cold. Graffiti keeps me warm. Because it is my blanket."
Anonymous graffiti in St.Paul

Bruce Lee

In Ireland of the late 1980's, when I was a young and impressionable lad, I was one quarter shareholder in a four man band of thieves/tree climbers/arsonists/vandals/highwaymen. We were driven neither by malice, malevolence or disillusionment with society. We lived for each minute, traveling the length and breadth of our respective neighborhoods by bike and foot; exploring wooded and abandoned places that are now long gone, victims of urban development. We fueled ourselves on sweets bought with stolen money. Mr. Kane never failed to provide for his fellow hooligans. His generosity knew no limits. A strict sugar diet of cola bottles, jaw breakers, 10p bags, cool pops, macaroon bars, fizzlers and white chocolate mice kept us focused, efficient and wild. It’s hard to write this without yearning for real writing skills that would transport all who read this back to those times. But maybe not even Shakespeare could accurately convey what it really felt like to be a young Dublin boy with no aspirations for greatness or regret for failures past. The freedoms we enjoyed will never be had again but we used up every ounce of them when they were ours. We wasted nothing.

The icon you see above is from the Commodore 64 game Bruce Lee. We finished the game together, the only computer game I’ve ever been able to complete. We shared all our ideas, strategies and tricks to achieve a common goal of beating all 20 levels so that Bruce Lee could revel in every bit of the glory that his 8Bit ass deserved. We played for hours on end. It never got boring. We scribbled diagrams on the back of the RTE Guide to explain our plans to each other. When the team bought in on the theory we’d unpause the game and the fury would continue.

I’ve downloaded an emulated version of Bruce Lee for the PC. It’s not the same. My mind is too clogged with work problems involving optimal melt processing of thermoplastic elastomers and the day to day demands and joys of a family man. Focus eludes me.

It’s now Elise’s turn to have absolutely nothing to worry about. Lucky girl (LINK).