The Smiths

I have an unnatural affinity for the Smiths. Years ago I was told that the reason for this is because our teenage brains bind us more tightly to the music of our teen years than anything we hear as adults. Makes sense. I spent a lot of time listening to The Smiths in high school.
As I spend the morning thinking about Thanksgiving week, I am reminded of my hometown, Denver, CO, Coors Light, and my friend Duck's car, the POSWAS. Cassette tapes, rugby shirts, and Wax Trax records. The Dysfunctional Family Thanksgiving.
From age18-22, every Thanksgiving evening was spent at a little bar under the Baskin Robbins on Hampden and Monaco. It's name escapes me, but it got crowded with a blur of familiar faces looking for a break from the turkey, pies, and football. I'm not sure how it started back before cell phones, Facebook, and text messaging but it happened, year after year.
I can remember searching the bar's jukebox for The Smiths, who were never there. Today, I just head to the Youtube, find an old live version of "Panic,"* crank up the volume, flood some dopamine into my system, and bask in an emotional afterglow.
I wonder if anyone will be there next week?
* https://youtu.be/xCNWr1rO1XM (in case you need a fix)
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