When I traverse the streets in Melbourne’s inner north, my life flashes before my eyes. Dotted along the way are fragments, baubles and discomforts, people who once existed in the streets and houses that I pass. I am greeted by people who remember me from a band or a TV show or the radio. Do I know them?

Memories, like dreams, are reconstructed narratives of what may have happened.

In 50 years, Lygon Street has ebbed and flowed from an Italian enclave with students from the nearby university living in ramshackle shared houses to a variety of meccas – pubs, delicatessens, restaurants, coffee. Those students are still there, 50 years older, in those same houses, now renovated.

Red Symons, on stage with the Skyhooks, plays the black Les Paul Custom that was stolen from his house decades ago.

I once greeted Mr Alphonse Gangitano on Lygon Street and complimented him on his Zegna suit. He was tall, handsome, nicely dressed and charming.

Among other things.

Brunswick Street was once largely abandoned. Why have a shop in a street that no-one visited? There was only the sandwich place, a variety store, with the Bearded Lady. This simple identifier, free of any pejorative intent, was the understood destination for roughly hewn, richly fulfilling ham, cheese and pickle made on the spot by the calm and contented wife and husband.

Brunswick Street was quiet in the ’70s. Pictured is the Melbourne Fringe Street Parade and Party in 1998.Credit: Mario Borg

Only decades later did........

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