There's worse things to be inflicted with.
Some may say, "Hey Chaz, why would you want to be 19? You won't be able to drink. Legally." My response would come in a one 3-syllable word:
Living so close to The Great White North all my life, I have formed a strong bond to my North American brothers & sisters. When I was 19 I would travel across the Rainbow Bridge with my little gang of friends and venture to a cool little bar called The Wild Mushroom.
It had a fire place, a great jukebox, and a fooseball table. To enter you went down a few steps, so if you sat at the booths along the wall (as we did), you could look up out the window and see the feet of everyone walking on the sidewalk outside. For some reason that was cool to me.
Of course there are other parts of Canada I love. Toronto is definitely at the top of the list. Being nineteen in Toronto would be sweet. Being nineteen in the 1990s would be even better.
I need to end this post abruptly before I activate my ailment. Chronic Nostalgia is no joke.
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