Back in Miami and it’s righteous. That means soft cool nights where you can walk around in a t-shirt and feel good, feel like breaking out into a run, feel like finding a beach and wading out hip deep, beer in hand, laughing and crying out to the moon. It means combing your hair back and putting on sharp clubbing clothing and walking out into the town, past groups and gaggles of beautifully sharp hot girls all made up and wearing the kind of clothing that gets people arrested and smelling so good, so good you want to just change direction and follow them wherever they’re going. It means music you can’t get enough of, the kind that gets you squirming and foot tapping and swaying even when in the midst of a heated conversation. The kind of music that eventually wins you over in the same manner the waves will eventually erode and swamp any sandcastle wall. And then there’s nothing for it but to grab the hand of the closest girl to you and just light out for the dance floor, corona in hand, and dance dance dance till you need a refill.

Miami. It’s good to be back.