It seems like it's a good time to reflect backwards. I'm now in touch with one of my besties ever who was my partner in crime at all the raves we used to take over with our wings, glitter, running around in track flats and mini-skirts, livening things up. Then on Friday, I ran into Odi on the street, jungle DJ extraordinaire, who lives a block from me, when moving furniture into my house (and dropped the secretary due to distractions with my conversation, kinda messing it a little, oh well, it was just my great-grandma's and all...). And Cindy posting Josh Wink on my wall. I want to get a tape deck, find all my tapes at my parents (God, Paulina Taylor, Scott Henry, DJ Sy, Charles Feelgood, so many other names that probably don't even exist anymore...)
Back in the day...
Back in the day when DJs played records.
Back in the day when miniskirts with platform sneakers danced next to mouthy drag queens.
Back in the day when everyone knew who Peter Gaiten was, and that The Tunnel and The Bank referred to clubs, not a way to get to Jersey or a financial institution.
Back in the day when everyone wasn't futzing around with their stupid phones and was instead interacting.
Back in the day when there were dance-offs.
Back in the day when our whole lives were ahead of us, and anything was possible, and of course we were going to change the world.
Back in the day when hugs and candy and kisses were exchanged freely.
Back in the day when we didn't know any better.