Columns » Urban Archaeology

You can't say we never tried

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Angie! Angie! Angie!

When I looked down Ninth Street last weekend and spotted copies of this flyer stapled and taped to nearly every utility pole, I started singing to myself:

All the dreams we held so close seemed to all go up in smoke,

Let me whisper in your ear ...

But unlike Mick Jagger, this flyer doesn't whisper; it screams.

Of lost opportunity and embarrassment.

Of desperation and regret.

When will those clouds all disappear?

I don't know if Angie ever forgave this guy. Or if he forgave himself.

Where will it lead us from here?

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