Crazy, this is my childhood. The tiny old bridge over Sharpio's Cut before it closed up. My dad knew Elbow, and I remember meeting him a time or two when I was about 10. Fishing the lights in the canals, my dad had a double lot there on Hall rd. It just seemed so much easier to catch fish back then, quality and volume. Steak fingers and fries at the Hungry House, shooting pool, playing music on the jukebox. The guy across the street from the hungry house that would park his helicopter in his yard and had his own refueling tank there too. I remember sleeping on the deck of the house down there when the skeeters weren't too bad, looking up at the stars and listening to the diesels humming by on the intercoastal.