Posted AT 3:25 PM EST on 05/07/08
Why my aging brain can't remember Feist lyrics
So there I was, driving a convertible in the California desert, with the top down and a hot wind blowing through my hair. It was like a road movie: I was flying along a deserted highway dotted with cacti and the radio was cranked up loud.
Of course, it was playing the Eagles, which I hadn't heard for decades, and was never really my favourite band or anything but singing along into the wind, I still knew every single word.
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