Memories of Gangs, Drinking, and Yester-years

Yesterday, I saw some of my people from way back (ok, it was last year, but whatever) and then from even farther back (from my gangster public school days).
Some of the guys who were in my class last year got tall- as in “I can’t see your face, there are clouds in the way,” type tall. All the midgets from my brother’s class who used to stalk me (for some reason those 5th grade midgets liked to follow me and my friends around- scary ) got older too (and thank goodness most have girlfriends now- those little creeps). So all my old people (I don’t call them ‘friends’ because I did not and will never, fit in with them, like them, or even want to talk to them) have grown up.
And it’s weird, because last night, we went to the Rice Festival at night, and the clientele was predominantly black, and it really brought back all of the memories from when I went to public school and was really being pressured into gangs, and drinking, and especially drugs. I realized exactly how lucky I was to get out of there before I got in too deep… I mean, just looking at the girls my age, with the sharpened nails and knives- I could’ve ended up like that. And believe me, the nails and knives were necessary, if you’ve ever had a knife to your throat, you would get it. And then looking at the boys, especially the ones a little younger than me- that could’ve been my brother. I mean, he’s bad enough already- but it that environment he either would’ve been dead already, or he would be carrying a gun. It brought back bad memories to say the least. So sorry if my trip down memory lane bores you to death, but I feel this ineffeable sense of gratitude to whatever grace pulled me through that, and out of it.