cycling to work yesterday along sydney road, i passed by this guy who seemed quite familiar in the way that strangers can. He was pale, not very well shaven, had a bit of weight around his jowls and was pushing a pram. He wore a t-shirt and blue jeans that didnt look it’d been washed recently.
I wouldnt really have recognised him if he hadnt been walking. He had a bouncy jaunty gait that had been worn down somewhat but was still distinctive.
In college, some 15 years ago now, he had long dark hair, wore long flowing white shirts, black leather pants, black cowboy boots and a broadbrimmed hat. Most of the cooler more alternative girls had a thing for him. Most of the other guys who were predominantly ocker aussie types from the country ignored him. I thought he was pretty cool and was a bit too intimidated to actually talk to him much less attempt to befriend him.
Seeing him trundling a pram on Sydney road saddened me because it hit me at that point how much time must have passed to have whittled this man away (or changed him) from near rock star to slightly depressed dad.
Things change – the black cat’s formica tables have disappeared, the punter’s club has long shut, the collingwood club has vanished and you no longer get hassled to buy drugs on Smith Street but none of that really got through to me the passage of time in the same way.
yes, but can he dance? 