Not a Big Fan of Jazz
My husband and I had the “hang-out house” of the cul-de-sac. Everyone hung out in our garage. We had a friend named “Tony” who would stop by after work, take a nap on my couch, and then hang out every night playing pool or just being there. Sadly, we lost him in a vehicle accident. For nearly a year after that, we would wake up to the stereo in the garage turning on and playing the jazz radio station.
Tony was the only one who liked jazz—and our garage radio was never tuned to that station. Even if it was turning on due to some strange power surge, it would have turned on to the station we kept it set to, not the jazz station!
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