I met up with a few old friends on Saturday night, including Dr. Lynne, back from her Oz jaunt. Very good to see old faces again, but come 11 o'clock, I made the mistake of staggering off to The Purple Turtle for a few late beers. Apart from wasting my money, it was a somewhat saddening experience: From what I could see, a large minority of the clientele were early middle-aged blokes with paunches, grey hair and glasses. Time was when the Turtle was a real kick-ass place, particularly before it moved from Duke Street; Now, it looks like it's become part of the fogey Heritage Trail, with men trying to recreate the youth, live a little riskily (ha!), and get down with the kids. Sad.
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