Follow me 40 years back through the mists of time, for me it would have been, scrape together enough gas money to hit my Podunk town's main drag with my 1968 El Camino (big block's gotta eat) and extra $10 for beer for the field party later. I hear my buddy John is finally going to fight that football player from the Catholic high school across town and his brother James is back from collage at the U.W. Madison and he's brought a bag of Kalkaska purple he got from his dealer. Someone would bleed, lifelong friends and enemies would be made, hearts would be broken, and our entire world would condense down to 40 acres, a bonfire, a keg, a little physical debate, some Two-Lane Blacktop reenactments and everything was right in a way that none of us even noticed, and life was easy for the last few warm summer nights. Next summer would bring jobs, recruitments, pregnancies and shotgun weddings, some of us live forever in that summer as bright flames destined to flare brilliantly and wink out, have their fire slowly extinguished by pain and disease or crushed by mental pain too heavy to carry and none of us even noticed that we were the last.....