Week 9: Pump Up the (car) Jam
Can't stick around for this week's party??
Next week's theme will be...
Your Favorite Oldie
I wasn't the kind of kid who wanted that much freedom, persay. I wasn't trying to move out of my house the moment I turned 18. In fact, I wouldn't leave - except for college - until I was 29. And even then it was a bit of a struggle. No, the kind of freedom I was looking for had boundaries. The kind of freedom I was looking for looked like me in a car with the windows down and the sunroof open and music. Loud music. Music playing so loud I couldn't hear myself singing it. Well, it kind of looked like this:
Because of this, it would be dishonest to say that "this one" is my car jam. There. are. too. many. I could try and list some for you but the list would too soon get out of hand. It would get away from me like a slippery,wet fish on the edge of a boiling pot.
So instead what I will give you is this story. My first blog post. Ever. (I told you... I'm Going
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