This whole nostalgia thing is kind of freaking me out. First I magically get the money to take a friend out to Gilman, then I bump into an old friend who used to go to Gilman at the same time I used to, and we sat around over dinner having a quaint reminisce about days of yore. Then I get home and find out that the "younger generation" - according to my friend, the former acid-dropping burnout turned high school teacher - has taken to hanging out at all the old places we used to go to back in my day, and the old eucalyptus she and a couple of friends accidently burned out has become known as the "wisdom tree" for the latest group of kids who wander out late at night, get drunk, and fall asleep in the park.
When the hell did I turn into a fucking tribal elder? I don't remember anything in the agreement I signed saying that the bad habits of my bohemian youth would become a cultural heritage passed down from one generation to the next.