Past Present & Future
As a teenager, me and my friends listened to Al Stewart’s album “Past Present and Future” over and over again, especially the song “Roads to Moscow.”
Yes, I know that I just typed “me and my friends listened . . .” Whatever. I’ll take alliteration over correct grammar any day of the week.
My friends and I [There. Better?] had all been geeks back then who had read extensively about and played elaborate board games based on World War Two.
In the marijuana haze within which most of our album-playing, all-encompassing conversations took place, the things we said sounded so lucid and profound. I’m sure that they were neither, but it seemed so at the time to me and my friends. [That’s right, isn’t it, “me and my friends” after the preposition “to” or whatever that little word is in the preceding sentence? Right? But I digress."]
The first time I’d ever heard of “Nostradamus” was on that album and during those deep youthful conversations.
Looking back and also forward, our time wasn’t totally wasted . . . even though we were. None of us expected to live long enough to see history repeating itself like it seems to be doing these days. Anyway, who knew?
Apparently . . . Nostradamus did.