Scotland Street Or Thereabouts

Thinking of places
Where people talk longingly of adventure
Hallowed grounds that maybe
Are the convergence of something holy,
Mystic, or just plain old folklore

Places so calm
Yet full of energy
Able to inspire greatness
That evolves with time
Savoring the current trends,
Wit, or just plain old rebelliousness

Places from my youth
The Library, where writing thoughts were born
In the stacks of biographies
Where sports heroes and historical greats
Taught me ambition and diversity when
One summer I played pepper
With Dizzy, Lou, and the Babe
Another was schooled in the wisdom of
Malcom, Martin, and Nellie

Then my father offered,
“Don’t ever go in there.”
Of course I was off to The Band Box
With its fancy pipes and
Posters of long haired hippies
Rocking it out
The stacks of albums and cassettes taunting
My varied tastes that included
Clapton, Marley, and Dire Straits

The end of the road
On this colonial style sort of Sunset Strip
Stopped at Paul’s
Where the Hot Holly
Came without pickles or tomatoes
Tabs were acceptable
The walk home short
And all I could think about was leaving town

When I remember those years on that simple street
I know I was more influenced by Steely Dan
Than Thomas Jefferson
But off to the side of William and Mary
I sure got an education
Without taking any classes
Or paying any tuition

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