“Glory Days”

…..the “Glory Days” didn’t seem so glorious back when they were happening, back when he was constantly being bullied by that fuckin’ musclebound prick Dan Dickhut, back when his face waged incessant war with itself in the guise of nonstop eruptions of unsightly acne, back when the prettiest cheerleaders in school stared right past him as though he didn’t exist and focused their gazes on the star athletes instead, back when high school cliques were more prevalent and demanded greater loyalty than notorious street gangs, back when you were either “cool” or “uncool” and there was no wiggle room for hybrids between the two classifications, yet everyone kept insisting they were inarguably the best years of his life, so all those purveyors of common knowledge must be right, of course; why, pray tell, would they NOT be telling the truth?  Forget the legions of onerous memories; his memory must’ve been betraying him all along; yes, the blame HAD TO lie with his own faulty memory! Those teenaged days of yore HAD to have been the best, most joyous years of his life and he’d just somehow lost sight of this obvious fact during the long ensuing interval. After all, why else would wunderkind troubadour Bruce Springsteen keep paying homage to them as the “Glory Days”?…..