Cinco de Mayo

With the supermoon aglow above, and the heat of the flames of a backyard fire, a country tune on the radio fought through the buzz of the cool L.A. air. Instantly recognizable, yet I didn't know how, or who. And it rang for two joyous moments on this Saturday night. Then it ended. No one could place it. To be lost forever in the ether.

In the middle of a Monday night slumber, I woke up in a sweat. The song's chorus playing in my head, and frantically scribbled down the lyrics.

Johnny Paycheck -- "The real shit."