Teenage dream

It will mean nothing to anyone but RS that the Rasta mural near my apartment is complete - Lion Of Judah heads; bands of red, gold and green; Wailers quote. Without crapping on about cultural enrichment, I'll just say it makes me happy that it's there.

Graffiti.

Back when I was a teen, a few of us local lads were chatting to a few of the local lasses when the boldest among them asked in conspiratorial tones if we wanted to know a secret. Of course we did.

"There are devil worshippers in this town!" she said.

Now, this chick was no bastion of truth, having sworn she could get her gal pals backstage at any rock concert, then failed to do so at the next available opportunity. But neither was she in the fibbing league of Jay from "The Inbetweeners".

"Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?" Naturally incredulous, BP had also dwelt in our seaside suburb the longest.

As I recall, she didn't want to give a reason. Perhaps the challenge had left her suddenly unsure of herself. Or she'd assumed we'd accept the unsupported statement. But with some prompting:

"We walked up to the water tower...

[A great green cylinder that sat atop the hill overlooking the bay, reachable by a rocky road too steep for bikes and gated against 4WDs.]

...and it'd been spray-painted with all these demonic symbols!"

Poor girl. She couldn't have chosen a worse audience with whom to share the forgivable-at-our-age conclusion.

Because they weren't demonic symbols but a mixture of Iron Maiden "logos" (actually the signature of artist Derek Riggs), "D&D"-inspired sigils and other stuff'n'nonsense, all put there in a fit of boredom by us guys.

"That was us, you idiot!" cried BP, and the laughter/teasing began.