Listening to Rod Stewart sing about Gasoline alley ("where I was born") suddenly brings to mind a VIVID image of growin up, not that I grew up in an alley, but it's what my town looked like in the 1970's.
My neighborhood was full of trees, flourishing in the spring rains, but there was a Hillbilly haunting of junk in the forest, beautiful and spooky, old car seats that had the jungle growing up through them.
And downtown there was a lot of gasoline smells, vivid concrete smells. My neighbors (white trash?? or just the kind of people who dumped trash in the forest) the toothless grandpa who never bathed, and the broken cars in his driveway. The trunk from the navy that was out on the sidewalk one day, recently. And how he never liked other people going through his trash. "Trash picker" as the worst thing they yelled at us....
My neighborhood was full of trees, flourishing in the spring rains, but there was a Hillbilly haunting of junk in the forest, beautiful and spooky, old car seats that had the jungle growing up through them.
And downtown there was a lot of gasoline smells, vivid concrete smells. My neighbors (white trash?? or just the kind of people who dumped trash in the forest) the toothless grandpa who never bathed, and the broken cars in his driveway. The trunk from the navy that was out on the sidewalk one day, recently. And how he never liked other people going through his trash. "Trash picker" as the worst thing they yelled at us....
