I have always been fascinated by the never-ending whines about Mondays coming from people, especially working-class heroes out there, who appear to be constantly reeling from their weekend overloads. At least, I’m free of that. In fact, even when I was still working the nine-to-five route, that has never been the case for me (although at one time, I had a tee with ‘Monday Sucks’ boldly printed on the front).
“By how we look today, we would surely classify as ancients ones, by Gen Alpha standards. We’d be like druids or Gandalf-like characters sitting at a table harping about days long gone or formulating exotic potions and formulas.”
Happily during one five-year stretch, Mondays were days when I always felt an extra bounce on the balls of my feet. That was when I’d eagerly anticipate merienda cena with a few close friends of more than fifty or so years. I could have, of course written “old friends”, but that would have been an understatement. By how we look today, we would surely classify as ancients ones, by Gen Alpha standards. That has a much nicer ring to it though, we’d be like druids or Gandalf-like characters sitting at a table harping about days long gone or formulating exotic potions and formulas. Better yet, reunions by us would be like that Simon & Garfunkel song about old friends sitting on a park bench like bookends. Indeed, that popular song during our time in the 70s might as well be our soundtrack right now.
Needless to say, whenever our 3:00 mini-break came during those Monday afternoons of long ago, I remember we were like noisy high-schoolers let loose once again, laughing heartily at the slightest recollections of days gone by. Why, a coffee shop nearby even had a special table reserved for us back then.
Judging from a constant stream of social media posts from former classmates and high school batch from our golden age, it’s safe to say, at least most of them still have great moments for get-togethers and coffee sit-downs. Once in a while though, a few of them drop by for a drink or two during our band’s gig skeds and I guess that’s close enough to be counted as such.
Not to be left out, old friends also encompass those whom we’ve felt special bonds with. They’re not exclusive of only school and ass mates, er classmates. If someone insisted on a detailed and categorized list, then I’d let three to seventy years duration be one among the criteria, if not lower. Just as long as ‘special bonds’ are included as operative tags. Not to be intrusive, I’ve spied on some with a thousand or more friends on FB-IG. While quantity may be attractive, I’m sure only a few from these qualify as close friends. (Just saying)
Besides, how are you going to fit all those in a park bench?
