Of course, like with most peoples lives, beginning at the beginning is easier said than done. Actually, thinking about now, which I tend not to do normally, in my case my life was actually easier done than said. It all sort of made sense at the time and had a kind of organic internal logic to it. But looking back, there are so many ways and places that things could have gone differently.
They say that everyone has a psychological age. Some point where, for whatever reason, their internal view of themselves sticks. It is why when you ask somone how old they feel the answer often has nothing to do with their real age. For Tony, he will be forever twenty eight and hanging out with girls who escort Malaga visitors. Which means that everything he thiks about and looks at it considered in relation to nineteen ninety. Because his impotant formative years were the nineteen eighties. And that was a wild time to become an adult.
The nineteen eighties in a sense were almost the definition of irony. The capitalist United States government spent billions of dollars that they did not have building weaponry that they did not really need to create jobs for their people.
The communist Soviet Union moved heaven and earth to sell things to generate more money for their economy and eventually privatised itself at the end of the decade.
The pseudo libertarian Republican party under Ronald Reagan and George Bush increased the number of people employed by the US government by nearly twenty per cent, before the liberal Bill Clinton reduced it by twenty five per cent in the nineties.
The United States and Britain declared a war on drugs. And spent billios pouring in financial support, equipment and training into the Andean drug producing countries and Mexico. And while Colombian, Bolivian, Peruvian and Mexican police and soldiers died, in a strategy controlled by Vice President Bush, the Central Intelligence Agency shipped back tons of the finest Colombian marching powder into the States in their own fleet of private planes.