The other day, as I was running down 19th Street, a blast of music suddenly filled the street. A fraternity house across the way had opened its windows wide and let loose the rousing strains of the soundtrack from Pirates of the Caribbean. A couple frat boys were perched on the windowsill, and a few others outside were erecting a cardboard pirate boat below the window.
I was irresistibly reminded of old days in my brothers' bedroom. Some things don't change, no matter how far away you go!
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