Learning to Love

I was up late packing, getting ready to leave the next day for Christmas break.  There was a knock at the door, which was a little surprising, since it was well after midnight.  Looking out the window I saw it was a police sergeant, so I let him in.

Apparently my friend Pam was accusing me of breaking into her home and racking up hundreds of dollars in long distance charges on her phone.  This would be funny in almost any other setting, but given the state of Pam’s mental health, it was just sad.  The sergeant knew the accusation was probably not true, but he was going through the motions to clear this case.

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Don’t Stop Believin’

Yesterday I was exploring some ring-tones for my phone, and like always I was drawn back to hits from the 80s. It is amazing how quickly a familiar song can take me back in time. It is a metaphysical experience that not only changes the clock, but the place. That’s what happened when I stumbled on this old favorite.

As just a snippet of this song played on my phone, I suddenly found myself my 280zx on the twisting, starlit roads of Scholls Ferry Road south of Hillsboro.  The amber glow from the dashboard illuminating my attitude as Steve Perry filled my soul with .

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