Late on the evening of June 8th 2014, I hopped into the Honda after probably 20 minutes of pussyfooting around and drove just 41 miles down I-35 out of Norman, Oklahoma.
Lightning flashed throughout the sky to the beat of whatever mortifying gangster rap that I permitted to blast through my open windows and into the windows of the big ole pick-up trucks of the cowboys on the road near me.
Car radios that I have used always seem to have critical malfunction of blasting Lil Boosie in small cowboy towns and Hank Williams in inner city rust belt ghettos. These radios must really want me shot dead.