In The Land That Our Grandchildren Knew

Kind of an ambiguous title for this post because as much as I want to talk about Thanksgiving, the best, and my favorite holiday, I don't know how much will get to it within this post.
Lots of personal tragedies in my life just waiting for me to blurt out in whiney crybaby fashion, and I guess a blog is really good for that purpose, but somehow it just doesn't really say 'me'.
Right now at this moment I want to be heading to Anna Liffey's (a bar with Guinness on tap) and pretending to fit in with the crowd that is way younger than me. All under the guise of me thinking it would be fun and them not thinking, "Whoa, the guy's like twice our age".
It's sort of a Love/Hate relationship with bars. I love them because they have well, y'know...alcohol. And a festive atmosphere. I hate them because the alcohol is so fucking expensive! Still, there is that festive atmosphere.
The money part prevents me from associating with my clutch of ne'er do wells, as often as I would like. Money, or lack of therein, prevents alot of things.
I miss being younger, too. Then again, who doesn't. I'm not really that bad off in the age department, but just for me personally there are just alot of things I miss. One would be school time. Not school itself, but the lifestyle. It always turns out to be an, if-I-knew-then-what-I-know-now, crying in your beer, life story, but that isn't where I'm going. Not dwelling. Just mentioning. Moving on.
Photographs are big helpers for isolating a time. Happy memories of vacations standing in line waiting to get on a ride in DisneyWorld just before a downpour. A sister when she was little looking impish, before growing up and facing countless operations for medical conditions that were dormant. Friends who have come and gone. Favored relatives who have left me behind (That's you cousin Mark, for not taking care of your diabetes).

For my life
Still ahead
Pity Me.