Deliver The Letter The Sooner The Better

When I was young, my mother enrolled my brother and I in some music class called Yamaha. The teacher was named Miss Barbara, I think. It was at her house and she lived in Orange. Later, when we were older, Jeff took guitar lessons from her. Her window in the room where she gave the lessons was the type that you couldn't see out of it, but you could see in it, so when we were waiting outside for Jeff to finish his lesson, we could see them and what they were doing. I thought that was a pretty cool window.

One night after our lessons, we stopped for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. On the radio was the song...that I don't know what the exact title is, but it goes...Stop! Wait a minute, Mr Postman. Apprently, I was singing along and was being too loud because my mom had to tell me to be quiet.

Whenever I hear that song, I go right back to that restaurant.

Whenever I am in town and we drive by where that restaurant was, I go right back to that day, singing the song, and mom hushing me.

And both of those things make me smile!