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Journey, Lovin, Touchin, Squeezin: I'm on the bus in 11th grade, and somebody has installed, for the first time, a set of speakers so we can listen to the radio on the way to school.
Bette Midler, The Rose: a set of girls in college, who loved to play and sing the song on piano and voice, force me to sing the harmony part again because they like how I do it. I protest: no, I'm busy, I've got to get to my next destination. But they force me. And to my surprise, in the middle of it, I tear up.
Yes, Close To the Edge: I'm stoned out of my gourd as a senior in college, the lights are off and I'm totally transfixed by the slow middle section buildup to Wakeman's church organ transition. My arm moves in rhythm with it.
Squeeze, Hourglass / Smithereens, A Girl Like You: I'm happy and zipping to work in my 1985 GTI with the tunes at high volume.
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