Country music and drybeds

I'm not a big fan of country music, but I am in the summer.

I think it's because of what this article on medicinenet.com says:

"The memories and emotions that people associate with familiar songs can be traced to the medial prefrontal cortex, a part of the brain where the wiring for memories and thoughts about music appears to be linked, a new study says."

When I went to pick up my parents from the airport yesterday, my medial prefrontal cortex was going nuts.

Someone (ahem, Becky?) had left the radio on a country music station, and this time I let it stay. It always makes me feel nostalgic to get an earful of Garth Brooks or Tim McGraw when it's warm outside. I think it's because I only listened to country music when I was with my friends, and I was only with my friends much if it was summer.

Country music reminds me of Laura's Toyota Corolla and Sno Cones,
of Craigo's and rock shows. It reminds me of teaching friends to drive stick shift and going to Disneyland. Country music means it's time to float the drybed and check the Playmill schedule before it's too late. It was in the summer that I first met my future in-laws and fell in love with Idaho's sunsets. Summers are wonderful.

I think my favorite part of summer, though, was anticipating fall.

I loved going to football games and back-to-school shopping. I loved getting a new locker and going to cross country practice.

Maybe it's the future that's makes the present that much better.