Sunday Sunday

There is a different energy to Sunday. Admittedly, I thought it was Friday yesterday (saturday) until my son notified me otherwise (thats why we pay him the big bucks!) but Sunday has a tone, a theme of quiet, slowmoving water. Like the Red River but without the stink and the huge ass catfish. Actually, the Red has some nasty eddies and undercurrents. Its a river to respect. Like the Mississippi, but less black folks. Allow me my analogy.
I've been talking to a gal from my old hood in Winterpeg, its funny to talk about Pollock Hardware or Sportsmans Billiards, especially when my vision of it is from about 1980. Or 1974-76, for that matter, which is when I spent most time at the ol pool hall. Red Lebanese hash for 10 bucks a overweight gram. Going to see the Who for 6 bucks, or the Doobie Bros with Skunk Baxter before they went disco.  It was a great time to be a teenager, I dont envy kids nowadays.

The river, the Sunday. The old 'Peg, seen through a smeary glass of 30 years memory. Hotdogs n skinny fries at Kelekis'. Kubasa from City Meat, walking through the North Main Strip, giving a hurtin hungover native dude a buck to get a drink.  The walls that existed between neighborhoods; Krauts in E.K., snotty Anglos in Tuxedo (and Jews who could afford to move there from Garden City).  I think part of me will always see it in 1976, the reality of the place now is probably much changed, but I bet Nortend folks and southside folks still judge each other and could drop the gloves at short notice.