Sometimes the craziest things spark a memory.

Whether it be the smell of burning leaves that reminds you of fall and spirals you into seasonal depression or the obscured back road in the middle of nowhere that reminds you of the first time you tried out back-seat yoga in your old Chevelle.

Today, I had … Continue reading “Polkas, Bartels and Some Dusty LPs.” Or, “Remembering WARD-AM.”