It’s March 23, and I’ve got this memory. I was a junior in high school, sitting with my girlfriend Carol in my ’67 Mercury at the end of Ash Avenue, by the beach. We decided to go steady. That’s what they called it back then; don’t know what they call it now.

We got matching gold bracelets with the date – March 23, 1978– on them. We wore them until we broke up in 1980. I guess wearing the bracelet for two years is what settled the date so firmly in my memory.

I lost track of Carol several years later. I remember we went to my five year class reunion together. I know she’s been married a couple of times, but I don’t know her last name. Not much there to Google.

I wonder if I still have that bracelet somewhere. It wouldn’t surprise me; there are boxes in the closet that weren’t thoroughly searched when I moved to this condo. But I think I’ll just let the question lie; no need to know.

I could say the same about Carol, though it might sound crass. Truth is, I’d like to know what happened to her. She’s a nice person, and it would be good to know she’s alright. The world can be a though place to live sometimes, don’t you think?