SRV

You know your mind is getting retarded when you start to sing a song out of the blue. Just like that I was humming the song of the heroic Dutch SRV man:

“Leve de man van de SRV van je hiep, hiep, hiep hoeree!”

(Long live the man of the SRV, hip-hip-hurray)

Back in the late Seventies, early Eighties, there used to be SRV trucks driving around neighbourhoods: stores on wheels so to say. Rather expensive too: over at the local supermarket things were generally cheaper. I suppose, you pay for the convenience. As young kids, I remember, we used to buy our Bazooka bubble gum. Or ‘dropveters’, ‘dropmunt’ and other treats.

Nowadays, I wonder if there are still SRV trucks driving around. A quick look at Google tells me there actually are. Naturally, in a liberal country like the Netherlands, people nowadays associate SRV trucks with ‘other things’. Who would have thought back in those days.

If you get older, you appreciate the innocent life you lived when you were young, a kid, and invincible, freely roaming and playing on the streets. Today, I wouldn’t even think about that.