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send the wild women out the back door...

i went to this indian restaurant tonight and after a spate of tamil songs, the music abruptly changed to something i haven't heard in a very long time - michael learns to rock! i'm not a fan - i barely like their music - but it was nostalgic to listen to them. it reminded me of 1995-96, when someone in our group bought their album and we used to listen to it even though it bored us to death! i found myself remembering almost all the lyrics to the songs and involuntarily lip-syncing along. come to think of it, there were many bad songs of those days (that i probably hated with all my heart but still couldn't avoid listening to, because they were ubiquitous) that if i listen to them today, i would still laugh and sneer, but eventually associate them with something endearing that's now lost forever - and that makes them beautiful too. those songs are keepsakes from a passed time - like the pebbles that you pick up at a beach you know you wouldn't visit again - the pebbles themselves are of no value, insignificant by themselves in the sunburnt sand - but in the confines of a shoebox, or on the ledges of a bookshelf, they appear to pulsate with memories of good times bygone. the stones are not inanimate. Zen, again.

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