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Cowboy Junkies 32.20 ; After All These Years

It’s hard to believe it has been almost 28 years since I bought a record, having no idea what the music inside would sound like, took it back to my drafty college apartment, placed it on the turntable and dropped the needle, and fell in love.  This is magnificent.

By JunkChuck

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels, growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.

One reply on “Cowboy Junkies 32.20 ; After All These Years”

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