Dear the BRYAN ADAMS:
I had occasion to hear on my car radio today, once again, your 1984 smash hit record “Summer of ’69.”
I’m sure many listeners resonated to this stirring recollection of one of pop music’s most amazing years, and that many of them also had a guitar and some friends that year and felt inspired.
You, however, were nine years old.
What the hey,
Be My Blog 
Standing in my agent’s office
He told me I’d get away with this forever
That was the best scam of my life
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I hate that song. So much.
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Seconded.
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Thirded, and also, I’ve always wondered WTF with regard to the year. I guesstimated his age around that, too.
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Fourthed. But I have to admit it never occurred to me that Bryan Adams was too young to have experienced 1969 in that manner. DUH.
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Speaking of music
Speaking of horror-music, I did the thing one should never do:
I called a Walmart. Namely the one here in town.
The on-hold music was “Country”, but of a sheer awfulness…
Lovecraft. Lovecraft.
Somehow, somehow, there may have been shanais.
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