I've made it well known that I prefer to listen to music in the car rather than news. This used to embarrass me because somewhere along the way I determined that my preference for music made me inadequate among my more worldly and well-informed friends. That I must be lacking in intelligence because of my penchant for classic rock instead of Talk of the Nation.

But that's bullshit! And I say that with confidence because as of Saturday I will be a whole year older and wiser. With age comes the ability to recognize your personal value and own it without fear of judgement. With age comes the ability to say "fuck it", I'm just gonna be me and that's good enough! Take it or leave it.

So as I was shamelessly listening to the classic rock station on my drive home from work on Monday, a Jackson Browne song came across the airwaves. It was Doctor My Eyes, and of course I was singing along at the top of my lungs.

I can't listen to a Jackson Browne song without thinking of Daryl Hannah and their domestic quarrel. And on this most recent Monday, my reflection of this event lead to a memory of Stephen and what I think might be the meanest thing he has ever said to me. Once, out of spite, Stephen told me that James Taylor hit Carly Simon!

I think we may have been in high school so we wouldn't have been dating, although I remember the incident taking place inside Tom's 50 Minute Photo and I don't think Stephen would have been hanging out there with me in high school. So maybe it was during college - still not dating.

At any rate, he did it to be mean because he apparently thought I thought too highly of James Taylor. I may have also been egging him on with accusations that Isaac Brock was a rapist and questioning how he could be such a devoted Modest Mouse fan knowing that (FYI, those charges were later recanted and I have since grown to love Modest Mouse because they are so awesome).

I recognize that this story might be strange and disjointed but the point here is that I when I tried to think of something Stephen has said or done to me that might be crueler than intentionally defaming my most idolized singer/songwriter, I couldn't. Which made me think that Stephen must be a pretty alright guy. He must really like me, right? And it made me happy.

So happy birthday to me and to Stephen. May 33 bring us more insight, more love, and more opportunities to bicker about meaningless topics such as the personal lives of musicians, 'cause that's how we roll. And you can take it or leave it!