reeling

I cannot even imagine this Thursday. Or, if I’m lucky enough to wake to them, the following two days.

I remember once, during the brief time I owned and operated my first car – a 1955 Plymouth – driving one afternoon and a slightly-older girl named Cathy Shanks was with me and when I lit a cigarette she grabbed it out of my mouth and threw it out the passenger window, and The Rascals “Groovin'” was on the radio and it was a Sunday afternoon.

That would be nice.