Happy New Year.

I had a vivid memory while lying in bed this morning. Outside of our window there was a car with bass-heavy music playing. The windows were closed, so you could only hear the thump...thump...thump. With my head under my pillow it sounded like windshield wipers in a car, and I had this sort of deja vu/flashback of being a young kid alone in my dad's Dodge van with the engine running while he jumped out to buy a pack of cigarettes. The stickiness of the plastic seats in the moist air, the smell of my father mixed with cigarettes mixed with the faint smell of engine oil and the sound of rain on the windshield and the slow thump...thump...thump of the wipers.

It was very powerful and not strange at all. I could totally smell and hear it.

Also, I read a very funny sentence (it was about poetic technique, for what its worth): If someone’s chasing you down the street with a knife you just run, you don’t turn around and shout, "Give it up! I was a track star for Mineola Prep."

It was quoted here.