We're on the road, and I am deeply satisfied by my first experience at a
Cold Stone Creamery. I am sleepy, too. It's 8:30, and my day is winding down. Tom Petty begins moan from the radio, and I close my eyes to enjoy the hypnotic chords of an iconic American anthem. Deep breath, sigh. I let my head loll, and Nick speaks.
"Oh, the lumberjack song," he says, turning the volume up. I open one eye and look his way. Lumberjack song? Huh? I let the silence volley my reply, unwilling at this juncture to admit that I have no stinking idea what he's talking about.
The chorus arrives before too long, and Nick inhales deeply before screeching, "TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! TREE FALLING!"