Riding home from who-knows-where this week, I found myself singing "All For You" while sailing down South Park. Passing the lower of the two Shaker Lakes, Sister Hazel reminded me of a vacation to Watch Hill from years ago. I think I was ten- I recall a short exchange with a woman shopping for her daughter, asking me if I thought I'd wear such-and-such article of clothing, thinking I matched her daughter's 13 years and being very impressed with myself for pulling off the older-girl facade.

I don't see my dad's side of the family often, but that particular Cleveland escape included his brother and nephews, and the memory is of all of us on the way to our Rhode Island destination in a van, listening to the radio. Maybe my brain is falsifying this recollection, because it seems so out of my father's character...but everyone was singing along, "it's hard to say what it is I see in you," and I was happy.

I don't particularly like the song, and I have no idea why it filled the space between my ears as I finished up my ride, but it was a pleasantly sentimental soundwave.