Last night, as Rick and I were returning from dinner, a song came on the radio.
An oldie. Moldy oldie. Percy Faith's "Summer Place." No lyrics, all instrumental. Nice but old.
Rick says, "I so remember this song. It was out when I was in high school and I would just sit and listen to it and dream... dream of meeting Miss Right."
"And did you?" I asked.
* * blink, blink * *
"No," he continued. "She dumped me. For a football player."
"Did you ever meet Miss Right?"
"No. Then I went into the military."
"Not ever? Gee, thanks."
"Well, not until you."