Sauro Motel - The Collected Writings of Bobby Sauro.

You’re ten and it’s 1977. You’re riding with three others in the back of an Oldsmobile. You’re from the North and know very little about the South. At that moment, you are in the heart of Dixie, having left South of the Border hours ago, while it was still light. As you ride, you dream in the dark and sing along with the song that you have heard the most on the trip by far – only, you get the words wrong. “Purdy Little Love Song. PURDY LITTLE LO-VE SONG! Purdy Little Love Song. Can’t be wrong.”