Cronulla - backdated

I wrote this on Monday, when I got into work:

On the train this morning I saw the cover of the paper, the herald, I can't remember the headline, something about riots, and youth out for revenge. The photo took up the whole front page, so all I could see were the white arms and I thought where is that? surely not France again, that didn't make the front page before. Then I came into work and checked out the herald and
it is at Cronulla.

I am astounded, in some ways, and not overly surprised in others, not when I think about it and what life was like when I was young. The different groups of people, older surfers, younger surfers, chicks just lying in the sun, people walking to the beach, or catching the train, or driving down. Being part of things, there was no trouble for me, because I was careful (I suppose). Later when Peter lived there he would complain about the traffic on the weekend.

I don't know about violence.

Maybe underneath it all. The security guards in the plaza, and the closed circuit camera, and Peter getting knocked down in the street. Groups, and aggravation.