Graeme

In high school, my gang included the mulatto Jamaican Graeme, the intellectual Russian-Scot Kenneth, the Hokkien-speaking Chinese-Filipino Philip, and myself. We often ate lunch together. We played video games and computer games. Our favourite board game was Risk, whose objective was land conquest. Graeme lived in a townhouse complex with a nice swimming pool, in which we swam.

My Jamaican high school friend Graeme was one-quarter black and had a very rich Jewish uncle.

It's the 17th of May of 2025. After 13:00, I walked to Tim Hortons café again, there to sip Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. I bought a box of 20 Honey Dip Timbits (donut holes) for family guests tomorrow. There was in the café the familiar Oriental-white hybrid couple, of which the man looked eerily like John Lennon the musician. A trio of familiar teenage mulattoes entered, one of which reminded me of my Jamaican friend, Graeme S., whose uncle was Phil Collins the musician. When I was in university, I and my friends would sometimes visit the West Vancouver house of Graeme's rich Uncle Victor, who was Jewish. Their grand house had a backyard Jacuzzi and a swimming pool, overlooking Burrard Inlet. Graeme's uncle and aunt were one of the first tourists to China when that country opened up in the 1980s. They brought back with them an ancient-looking stringed instrument. (Incidentally, my Auntie Mila visited China in the 1970s when it was still a forbidden country. Auntie was some kind of administrator for the Philippine Bayanihan dance troupe.)