Radio Somewhere 

            It was a perfect shot.  The bullet pierced one temple and fiercely tunneled out the other.  But in that instant in which the bullet found itself between the two temples, Rick found himself in a moment of clarity.  His mind was racing as fast as the projectile itself.  Time slowed to a standstill, and he was trapped within a memory of his teenage years.

            It wasn’t when he got his first high school report card and his parents commended him for doing so well in such a challenging new environment.  No.  Nor was it the next progress report for which his parents chastised him.  It wasn’t of his first “date” with across-the-street neighbor Kelly Kalinske.  He didn’t remember the many laughs he had shared with his best friends Michael and Nik, nor the fiasco in which Michael “stole” Nik’s date, nor how Nik never forgave Michael for it.  He didn’t remember falling in love for the first time with Sarah—the perfect, beautiful Sarah—nor how when they ended their relationship, he thought he could never be happy again unless she were back in his arms.  None of these memories mattered; none of them were important.

            He did remember one certain late night ride home from the San Francisco Symphony, his father in the driver’s seat of the Honda minivan, himself in the passenger’s as they glided down U.S. Highway 101.  As the signs flew by, he saw one that read, “Woodside Blvd – 2;” they were getting close.  The air stank of grease from the In-N-Out Burger fast food dinner they’d eaten hastily on the way up.  He could still taste the “special sauce” in his mouth, which he swore was just Thousand Island dressing, and he could feel the hamburger and fries digesting away inside him.

The radio was set to FM 102.1, KDFC, the Bay Area’s classical station.  There were times when he would have enjoyed listening to Mozart’s 40^th Symphony, but this was not one of them, so he politely asked his father if he could change the station.  His response was that pained, ever-so-common, “I guess.…”  Rick toggled through presets until he found 98.5 KFOX, his favorite.  He was hoping to hear some Foreigner, or maybe something by Journey, but the sounds coming out of the speakers were unlike anything he had ever heard.  Guitars oozed out silken melodies while the bass beat out a triangular harmony and the drums fell like slow water onto the floor, a veritable smorgasbord of psychedelic delicacies.

The music flowed in gentle waves that caressed his whole body with a warmth he couldn’t quite describe; yet at the same time, any icy wind blew up and down his spine.  The world left him as the music drew him deeper and deeper into its magic.  He thought he had finally found his calling within this Sirens’ song.  As the piece came to a close, he was sitting at the edge of his seat, waiting for a revelation from the airwaves.  And it was in that instant that the all-too-familiar announcer—that booming, unnaturally low voice—informed him that he was listening to “Stone Trek: The Best in Progressive Rock.”