Every so often I look for old friends on the Internet, you know, friends from ten or twenty years ago (except for you kids who aren't old enough to have friends from twenty years ago; you don't know yet), to see what they're doing, if they have a Web presence or footprint.
And yesterday I found someone, and the page had her email, so I wrote to say, hi. And when I got home, I found an old photo with her standing next to the car I had when I was in library school. On the back bumper was a sticker for the band 7 Seconds. And that got me to thinking about my terrible memory.
I put that bumper sticker on the car to remember the concert. Because for that whole show, as I stood up by the front of the stage, just outside the mosh pit, some girl I'd never seen before, held on to my waist for 45 minutes. I think she wanted to be close to the stage, but didn't want to get sucked into the whirlpool of moshers, so she hung on to whatever she could find. And that was me. I watched that whole show with a strange girl clinging to me and never bothered to ask who she was or her name or anything.
That got me to pondering lots of other stuff about my life that isn't worth mentioning right now, but it's just funny how small things can trigger big memories. That's why I have tattoos. But that too, is for another time.
