House party last night. I sat down, long before my life passed before my eyes shortly before midnight, with my host's son. He wanted to show off his record collection and talk about music.
I miss talking about music with my old buddy Henrik, who has been gone years now, so I was happy to have someone to talk to about records. Young fellow has a thing for oriental pop as I do.
Old records never die. I hope the magic in the grooves sustains my new friend as long as it has sustained me.
There were people doing shooters at the party. I stayed away from them. As a result I felt fabulous when the sun shining in the spare bedroom woke me gentle as an old friendly dog in a year new as a fresh lit candle
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