For a couple years after college, one of my best friends was an RD at the college from which we graduated, in the building I lived in as a freshman. She had a little basement apartment, and I’d come visit for weekends and we’d talk and talk and talk and talk and talk. And talk. One Saturday, I drove down to visit on the heels of a New England snowstorm. It must have been sometime during winter break because the campus was deserted; her car and my car were the only ones in the lot. In the night, over two feet of snow fell, and because it was break, most of the roads and lots on campus weren’t plowed. We had planned to have breakfast with another college friend, and because we were hardy New England folks, we didn’t want to let snow deeper than the tires on my car hinder us.
So we put on boots and warm jackets and leaped our way out to my little car. Getting out of the lot was a challenge – we got stuck a few times but managed to plow our way out somehow, mostly in reverse if memory serves. Roads were barely plowed; in fact we even saw a giant sanding plow fishtail on a turn. But we made it safely and had a long chat and gab over coffee and eggs.
The Weepies always reminds me of those first few years after college, usually as they were often playing at soft volume in the background of whatever festive gathering I was at. All That I Want is one of my favorites.