[herr_oberst]

I see David pulling up in front of the venue for his latest gig. He opens the door of the spiffy classic roadster, unfolds his long legs, steps out and walks around to the passenger side to retrieve the vintage t-bird that he himself lovingly refinished. He gives a smile and a nod to all the fans queued up in line while he makes his way to the stage door.

Later that evening, with his ears still ringing from the music that filled the arena, he lovingly straps the Fender into the passenger seat, drops into the drivers chair, and with the top down and the night spilling into the cockpit, he steers that pretty little sports car towards home - but MJ knows he'll be a little late tonight, because he drove the Porsche, he'll be taking the back roads, and there will be a different kind of music filling the Pennsylvania farmland - the symphony from an air-cooled flat 4 that happens between 3500 and 7000.

Life is good.