For some reason the music brought me back.

The same reason as always I suppose. She had a white face, protection from the sun it seemed - her job to be in it. Makes sense. To dance and promote, but she had fun. The beats of this tune transported me back to what I must have been thinking then, surrounded by people much younger than I. Uncomforted by the thought of the gap... I was older now. And they would not quite get the reason for all of this - the point of it all. Her purpose. But she had the time of her life, in rhythm.. to the beat. All in black, and a white face.

It was a fun moment surrounded by the awkward memories of a generation. I would never go back to that time of indecision and guesswork. But then again I don't think I was ever really there. I lost myself in the crowds and listened to something else entirely. Perhaps I too was more interested in the beat.

A year later I found myself flattening mud in a small circle. Learning from the movements of another in a place where nobody cared. It was awesome. And at that time I needn't worry about the plans of another - complete freedom at that time - from all obligations. Nobody knew where I had been and it did not matter.

I returned empowered, with my own story - I had been in my own place. It was good. I never told the story.

The head nodded between the aisles of discs in a warehouse of consumables. I was digging the tune, enjoying the mix, thinking about a white faced girl in black surrounded by drunken awkward memory makers - trying to make sense of it all. I picked up what I needed and wondered if I would remember remembering it later.

I remembered.