…or, I Started Writing About Something Else, Then I Had An “Oh, Shit!” Moment

One of the occupational hazards of having a tween daughter is the new exposure I have to pop music. No curmudgeon I, pop music does instill a certain youthful kick to the workaday car ride.
But some of those vaporous, gossamer tunes get stuck in your head, uninvited like a migraine. And, like a migraine, they eventually go away if only because they are crowded out by something even more insipid.
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