“Even Now” began streaming in my head like I was listening to the radio in 1983. There’d been nothing in my head except, “Where’s the towel?” Then here’s Bob singing, “There’s a highway, a lonesome stretch of gray.”
I said, “Bob, baby, why?”
He said, “Even now, she’s all that I want, all that I need.”
“Bob, that’s answering my question, is it, Bob?”
“She’s givin’ it all, she’s givin’ it free.”
I accepted it; the Universe had chosen my Sunday morning music.
Michael Seidel, writer 
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