I'm listening to New Order's album Technique. Suddenly, I'm back in my basement bedroom in Huntley, Illinois with big, thick hair on my head and a leaking 1979 Buick LeSabre in the driveway.
I'm driving... I have a cheap cassette player in my dash (I installed it myself and in the process blew out all my dashboard lights so that at night I have no idea how fast I'm driving... Huntley cops love me).
All my New Order tapes are worn thin.
This car is so big there could be someone else in here and I wouldn't know it. Often, my friend Tim would stow-away whenever I drove to Carpentersville to hang out with my girlfriend.
Me and three floppy-haired friends saw New Order in concert one summer night in 1989. Little did we know that night would become a turning point in all our lives.
It boggles the mind to imagine the amount of damage we could inflict if we could go back knowing what we know now.