by Raphael Saray

I ’m quickly becoming an old man. I’m taping golf pre-game shows (DVR’s are for the young). I travel to three different drugstores to find the proper flavour of milk of magnesia. As I’ve frittered away my twenties, I hearken back to when I was on the cutting edge of the culture. I was the youngest of four children in a household full of ethnic energy with live in Grandparents hovering over simmering pots of God knows what. I was raised with mature tastes. Rather than me bringing the house down with “family” fare, I was raised up. A little Raffi – but more RUN DMC. Continue reading