When I was a fine.

When I was growing up, my family had a giant green Buick, and it was a wonderful peacetime vehicle it was the

kind of Buick it was huge a huge trunk it had two giant bench seats front and back with the

upholster on that by the way it looked like a luxury couch from the early 70s it was vividly green

when it was built I'm sure but UV had made it all kind of faded

teal. And it had the white, I don't even know which material that is, like faux leather wrap on the

roof of the vehicle. And then inside you had one of those giant speedometers. It's like a foot

and a half long, and it runs horizontally

across your dash. And as you accelerate, the red needle would move across your vision from left to

right. It had an eight-track player, but the only eight-track cassette that my family owned was

won by Slim Whitman. I know, the irony is not lost on me. I see it. So I figured out that we could listen to other

better music if I bought a cassette adapter that would go into an eight-track adapter,

and then the cassette adapter could convert to a headphone jack, and then that could go into

my disc man. So it was like an adapter of an adapter of an adapter, and then into the disc man.

And then we

could listen to important good music like Ace of Bass or PM Dawn from my CD collection while

we bounced along in this car that had horrible suspension. And I said earlier, it was a really,

it was a great peacetime car because if you didn't subject it to any pressure, it was cool.

People would make fun of it, but I liked to that, Buick.

However, if even the slightest breeze of pressure was applied to that vehicle because of weather or you need to accelerate fast or slow down quickly or navigate a bumpy road, it went to crap. It was awful. When you

tried, when you needed it most, like you needed to get into traffic, you'd hit the gas. And for

whatever reason, the air intake was just always locked up and it didn't, when it would

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