In response to my "Pop Culture" post, my friend, who recognized himself in print, sent the following: (I couldn't leave it in the comment wilderness.)
Ah, the famous Route 66 — the place to get my "kicks." Too bad, this pleasurable highway often causes my underthings to bunch. The routine goes something like this: as I contemplate a more faithful walk – voluntary poverty, abstinence from anger and no more hanging from guy wires after Oilers games, my thoughts of piety are derailed by the latest high-priced, hi fi accessory. Oh vain man that I am – an audiophile doomed to an eternity of silence and Lawrence Welk reruns? Or is there hope still available, even for such a one as this? I'm thinking there is. Martin Luther, who liked a good pub song as much as the next heretic, put it this way – "If grace abounds, where sin abounds, let us abound in sin, that grace may all the more abound." And Marty's declaration sounds even better when punctuated by a high quality sub-woofer and a Jimmy Page lick.
