Summer 91. Miami Beach run at dawn.

A 67-year old man was jogging barefoot on the abrasive sand along Ocean Drive. Thick German accent, had been there 42 years after surviving concentration camps.

Hopefully I'll run like him when I'm 67.

The girls on Miami Beach do cover their tits, but my god, not their bottoms, and nobody pays the least attention.
Nobody but me, that is.
Can you imagine, I asked nobody, prayed no god, and this pretty came along and started playing with a bunch of Latino pals.
Right in front of me, she wriggled her pert little backside as if there was no tomorrow.

And the music was good, yes.

I could have died happy, there and then.