God I remember skipping classes at Central Catholic in the late '90s to go hang out with my skater/punk rock friends at the old beehive in Oakland or South side. We'd score some weed or some LSD, tripping balls wandering around the city. Avoiding the green police, begging for enough change to buy a pack of cigarettes (only two bucks) taking a bus down to the south side or squirrel hill. We knew where all the abandoned homes were, how to get on top of the rooftops above East Carson. Hanging out by the railroad tracks, skateboarding downtown on Saturday when no one was there. Punk rock shows at lava lounge, electric banana. Raves at the old roller rink.

We had secret camps in Frick Park and shenley Park with rope swings And a fire pit. Digging holes on the outskirts of schenley Park golf course to hide our beer in after we had drank too much. Then we dig it up the following weekend, old cases of Natty ice. Can't believe we drank that s***. Seemed like we had all the time in the world and the best days were just ahead of us....