My driving work now takes me to an
old stamping ground from when I was
young. It was a thirties
part of town. I remember a friend
who lived there, a detached house,
with a hundred foot back garden.
I was a little envious.
It was like a meeting place, with
a landline.
He would say it's 'a thirties house'.
It's changed hands a couple of times
since.
As I drove, all these leafy thirties
and forties streetscapes washed over me.
The daylight seemed to be gold tinted.
These roads seemed to go on for miles
more than I had thought.
In their windows glimpses of what's
inside.
I thought it would be enchanting if the
people in these thirties enclaves
all had thirties cars, fashions,
radios, cameras, old tech.
That's just fantasy of course..
Being tuned into this stuff
is synaesthesia adjacent I guess.
Then I was looking at an old film,
gold diggers of 1933, which has the
song 'We're in the Money", sung by
Ginger Rogers, so pretty, on the
silver screen, they all were,
the film was a bit cringe.
