This song echoed in the school buses of my childhood before we were driving around in our parents cars.

This video reflected on the wood walls of unattended houses under large dark trees.

I remember glaring football stadium lights as we pull onto a road that doesn’t know whether it’s in the country or the city. The smell of dirt, turf and sweat. Boys jeering and trying to one-up each other with the next most depraved band. Tool. Crystals in windows, toys from Elementary school stuffed away in the closet.

Some things to note about this nostalgic curiosity: The lead singer is Mr. Peppermint’s son. Mr. Peppermint was a local PBS favorite a la Mister Rogers (of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood). There is another revealing video of Gibby Haynes that Mr. Greg Fronczak urgently shared with me while abiding at the Lemon Flats.

I realized this song has been floating around in my head lately while I entered into a hypnogogic state on my couch. There was a westward breeze blowing through large tree outside the open bay window.

On another note, the following song has also recently entered into my swampy clustered mind:

The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band – In The Country

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