Few, if any of us, will argue against saying that time flies by far too fast.

There are some special moments I would like to savor, perhaps hanging on to them for a while.

But it’s hard to make that happen because time keeps marching on, giving us little chance to savor what went on before.

I enjoy some of the things on YouTube, especially those that connect me to my past or help me with worthwhile tips.

One about learning to appreciate old age suggests that instead of letting all our favorite moments roll by we could benefit by picking one favorite memory then reviewing it in our mind. It becomes just like a movie we can rewatch. Experts say we can often get more out of a rerun.

I found the problem with that for me is picking a memory, at least as a starting point.

How do I pick just one memory from a lifetime of living?

Should I pick a significant achievement? Should I pick something monumental like the birth of my daughters?

Or, should I pick a sentimental day that had meaning? How can I pick just one?

While I was debating where to start fate made the decision for me when a magazine I was reading fell open to an article by Dave Barry. The headline was catchy, “You Can’t Dance With a Smartphone.”

He wrote about the great joy he found throughout life in dancing, claiming that Gen Zers don’t dance. They stare at their cellphones.

At a wedding, when the DJ starts playing music to lure people onto the dance floor, Barry says it’s almost always an older couple like he and his wife that first head out to dance.

“Before long the dance floor is filled and almost every dancer is receiving Social Security benefits,” Barry says.

Well, Barry did it again. He wrote a totally interesting article with his typical humor.

His article did one other thing. It made me think about my own love-hate relationship with dancing. As I went back in my mind to my experience with dancing I realized it brought back stories from my past.

Ah, there it was, the perfect subject to start reliving my memories, just like the YouTube item suggested.

I am now one of those people who start dancing when they hear music. But I was a Johnny come lately dancer, and there were those who thought it would never happen.

I wasn’t allowed to attend school dances until I was in high school. So while kids my age were having fun on the dance floor I didn’t know how to dance. I just watched.

When an occasional boy would walk over to ask me to dance I didn’t admit I didn’t know how. Instead, I ran in the ladies room.

Finally, Wibur Reddinger, one of my favorite classmates, came to my house with a 45 record player. He said he came to teach me to dance.

I asked how he knew I couldn’t dance. His answer was classic.

You’re not rude, he said. So I knew the reason you turned down dancing was because you didn’t know how.

I still remember his one, two, one, two instruction. I didn’t become a dancing queen but I learned enough to bury my fear of getting on the dance floor.

My husband Andy wasn’t a dancer, except for the polka, so we only went to polka parties.

Many years later when I was dating a fellow who was a former Arthur Murry dance instructor he bet me I couldn’t keep up with him on the dance floor. I made that bet, even though I could barely dance. It’s amazing what determination and a few dancing lessons can do.

When I started dating David I asked him if he would agree to taking dance lessons with me. I was smart enough to ask on our first date when guys are more likely to agree to anything to show they are a good sport.

Dancing became one of our passions. We joined a dance club and even went on a few dance cruises.

We become one of those couples Dave Barry wrote about — couples on Social Security who pop up to dance whenever they hear music.

It didn’t matter if we were the only ones on the dance floor. We knew we would soon be joined by other Social Security dancers.

I never realized older dancers were most likely to start things off on the dance floor until I read Barry’s article.

It brought back so many memories, proving the truth that reliving memories gives you as much enjoyment as you had when you first experience it.

One of my best friends is in a wheelchair and can no longer enjoy our outings. But I learned it gives her pleasure when I bring up the escapades we once enjoyed. It’s definitely like seeing a movie the second time around. We still enjoy it.

So now that I know there is value in enjoying something “the second time around” I’ll pick another topic to recall.

If only I can narrow it down.

Meanwhile, try it and see if it works for you.

Email Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net