Continuity

Continuity, that is a concept I am fond of. I was reminded of my fondness for keeping on keeping on when I saw and spoke briefly with Brian, lead tenor for the Subhumans, at the roller derby season opener last week. If the Subhumans can keep on rocking, I can too, even if the dick I am a slave to needs a little pharmaceutical assistance when it is showtime.

Going to opening day at the racetrack gave me a similar feeling yesterday. The old guys one year closer to death; the young guys sporting their first grey hairs; the girls in their rockstar sunglasses and tattoo'd asses; the drunk Canuck fans in their lucky jerseys; the smell of racetrack food and the best marijuana in the world swirling in the pre-Olympic breeze; the unmistakable voice of my favourite losing horseplayer cursing, "Fuck Jesus up the ass! What the motherfuck was that?" after his choice finished up the track yet again.

The crowd at the track appeared to be the youngest I have seen in all my years of attendance. The future looks good for my favourite sporting venue that does not sell roller derby t-shirts. Perhaps I have crossed some invisible line which has caused the rest of the world to appear younger than myself. Young motherfuckers! What do they know?

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught.

To say the things he truly feels;

And not the words of one who kneels.

The record shows I took the blows -

And did it my way!