the last summer of my youth -a pan for frying

I heard from Amy Ritchie tonight. She and I traveled overseas as Kentucky's first generation of English Speaking Union Scholarship recipients. We traveled to Cambridge, England, but had enough money to travel to Denmark, Ireland and Scotland, too. The summer was miraculous.

I'm not sure if you're listening to this song, Frying Pan, as you're reading my words, but my goal is to type the words as I'm listening to the song. We drove two cars that summer: We began with Dianna, but traded her in for Fergie, because she was more like the two of us. Either way, before we left, Amy made a traveling cassette we could listen to while on the road. This was the one song that bonded us the most. We'd play it over and over again while driving the countryside of England before finding our rooms at Cambridge University.

The two of us look at this time as the last years of our youth. Amy is married now with two kids, living a beautiful life as a teacher and mother. She still sings and is amazing. I am still searching for answers, now at Syracuse University, and together, the two of us are still walking the line while looking in the frying pan.

In England, we met a plethora of people, including Australians and Irish folk whom we fell in love with, often bonding over our common ancestry from Great Britain imperialism. Watching this video is odd for me because I've only known the words and sound. Now I see the man whose voice box it arrives from. My memory comes from the green of Great Britain and not a shaggy dude with a guitar. For me, Evan Dondo has always been a muse from anglo speakers. His song is a part of my heart beat.