The reinstatement of the plicker at the restaurant at the end of the universe has not come a moment too soon. Plastic wicker is the bane of shorts wearing fools everywhere with hairy legs, and this is no exception.
That’s what you get, you suckers - you have to suffer for comfort! The two boys crash and burn, shot down in flames by the girls opposite, and I fear they will soon be causing a melted pool of plicker to ignite and burn the place to the ground, all exits blocked by the burning wooden terrace. Me, I’ll be fine - I’ll jump the fence gazelle-like - wait - it seems…to the strains of Steeleye Span’s ”Moonshadow”…which I can’t quite hear well enough to figure out if has been remixed, logic telling me it must have or there is no way it would be played here. I’d have to pause, dangerously close to the inferno as I’d need to know. If I can I’ll drag someone out while I’m at it. If for nothing else to share the weird optical illusion on the record cover of the record they were playing at the moment of their near death. The insanity of that as a concept makes me think I may be hallucinating from the traffic fumes, but the fear tells me yes - it happened. No, nothing is sacred. Yes, I’m outside, and the recompense is the good weather means the risk of cancer contracted due to second hand smoke has declined drastically. I wonder if Steeleye Span ever imagined for a second? No, I’m positive that while wearing the green willow around one’s hat never a second thought was given to dance mixes of the future once they had been invented soundtracking a post communist concrete jungle on the verge of Summer.
Indeed, it’s not quite Summer, this is Spring, and more like Summer than I’d expect in England. The sunshine and the concrete are both friends and enemies. The buildings tower above the stradas, providing shaded paths to hide from the sun, but also act as huge radiators, soaking the up the energy; it seems warmer on the streets in the evening than indoors as it slowly seeps from the structures. There is a noticeable change in speed too, people seem more relaxed, and some of the tension built up over the Winter starts to slip away; for all its concrete, the city is quite leafy, the trees breathe more life into the air and the people respond accordingly as they reap the reward.
They includes myself of course, and here I go in remarkably good - even ridiculously better shape than last year to face the challenges and instead of having to figure out the meaning of every single thing, worry about an entirely uncertain future, upgraded to ”somewhat uncertain” and therefore get to start with a lot more confidence, and appreciation and love of everything, which in turn, I intend to spread to everyone close to me and affect for the good. So, hello year two, my unlikely adopted home. Crank the Steeleye Span, would you?