When people ask me what kind of music I listen to, I lie. Typically people who ask that question are looking for a kindred spirit; almost like they’re pulling me close and inhaling my scent, looking for the sweet smell of mutually-loved music. But they don’t want to know the truth because my real answer is stanky.

Who we are behind our ear buds is our secret. When you see me walking to my car with my ear buds in you might guess, “He’s listening to Britney Spears,” or, “He’s listening to rock music.” Not true. Once I get in that car and the windows close I scream the lyrics to Nightcall – Kavinsky from the Drive soundtrack as loud as I can.

I once read this guy’s post about the strange music you fall in love with if you listen to it enough. His shameful love was for Freddy’s Greatest Hits. I find that hilarious, but is that really so different than me listening to this Initial D song as I run in the morning? I even say, “Yoooshhh” in my head and squint my eyes when it starts to play.

We all have shameful soundtracks playing in our minds. But I’ve shared all I can for now, maybe you’ve already seen too much …

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