Back in the early 1960s, during my wanderlust days, I found myself living in St. Thomas and I remember my companion and I would often find ourselves on the beach on Friday and Saturday nights, passing around a guitar, a jug, some cannabis and generally being young, stupid, carefree, romantic and crazy. Several years later, I discovered four of our friends we met there joined together formally as a singing group that was originally called the Mugwumps and later became known as the Mamas and the Papas.
I would probably have mostly fond memories of that time anyway, but they were enhanced, possibly disproportionately, because I could say "I went skinny dipping in the Caribbean with the Mamas and the Papas."
Because of this revelation, however, all those fond memories have been erased, replaced by ugly thoughts. And I'm not happy about it.
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