Punk rock philosopher. Liberalist contrarian. Grumpy old bastard. After working as a freelance music journalist, auto worker, railway worker, taxi driver, small business owner, volunteer firefighter and graphic designer, Lushington Dalrymple Brady decided he finally had an interesting enough resume to be a writer. Miraculously, he survived university Humanities departments with both his critical faculties intact and a healthy disdain for Marxism. He blogs at A Devil’s Curmudgeon. Lushington D. Brady is a pseudonym, obviously.
Possibly the greatest freedom we ever experienced as youngsters were those endless days at the lethargic end of summer when we’d aimlessly wander the neighbourhood trying to invent ways to enjoy the liberty of having nothing to do, and endless time to do it in.
Often we’d just drift wherever our feet took us within the world that was our neighbourhood. Other times we might choose to turn down this street, or cut across that yard, with a specific goal in mind: someone’s swimming pool, say. Then there were the times, simply bored with the freedom to go wherever we pleased, that we invented a game: at each corner, we’d toss a coin. Heads turn left; tails, right.