Happy Birthday Denison and the unearthing of the Tulsarama Plymouth have more in common in my mind than I originally thought. I listened to Denison’s podcast today in my car while driving to St. Paul, and it literally brought tears to my eyes. First of all, Denison is an excellent storyteller, there’s no arguing that. His podcast is every bit as wonderfully produced as THIS AMERICAN LIFE, and a “driveway moment” at that. But the story itself is so cool, too. Both the Nick Drake story and the buried car are time capsules. Nick’s by way of his beautiful recordings, and The car was seen as a method of acquainting twenty-first century citizens with a suitable representation of 1957 civilization. They mourn something that is lost. A time. Innocence. Or the idea of it. Some things in life are just meant to be, and I would like to treasure every moment when it is here, because everything is temporary. Kids grow up and become encumbered adults. Cars rust away. People die. The moments tick by, and soon we realize they are years and decades ticking by, and they can’t be reclaimed. That sounds sad until you realize the gift in it. The gift is that it will be gone, and that makes it so much more precious right now. And yes, I am a dreamer.