Ah yes:
A battered van careens westward bound; headaches abound, sleeping bag
over my head to escape the smoke and the insistent chatter from the
front seats, driver punching the radio tuner again and again as 90's
crap-rock, depressing, moronic and slack-jawed beats
relentlessly,overwhelming the dial, the bluegrass station having faded.
Suddenly, a bright crackle of jangly guitars, and in the millisecond
before dumbass changes the station, my brain scans the riff, the sound
of a million songs, I just know it's one I want to hear, then the vocal,
and me and the other old guy bark: "Hey the Rasberries, don't change the
station". One of them perfect singles "I Wanna Be With You" and for the
next 2 minutes and fifty seconds, that old van, dangerously on its last
legs, with plates from another car and no registration, (as the PA cops
discovered and 3/4's of the band! but that's another story) was a good
place to be, and the sleeping bag came off the head and I lived a
little...
