Whitney! Isn't this a classic? Weren't we all there once - so young and so innocent? It made me think of all my first loves: The one who plucked the mangoes from the tree. The pastor's son, who became a pastor. The one in his dad's Mercedes Benz. The one that drove a van, and gave me a tin ring. The one that sold T shirts in Far East Plaza. The one that left me origami animals. The one I met coming out of the third floor toilet with a tennis racket under his arm. The hippie who showed me his college haunts in Tokyo one winter and bought me a lump of crystal. The model who played me a song on his guitar during a sandstorm in Beijing. The drug addict. They all made me who I am today, dry eyed, looking back, unable now to see their faces at all clearly, even if I tried.