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How many times have I heard "Hotel California"? (Let's not even mention the time Grace put it on a loop on the lab music system about ten years ago.)

Dozens. Hundreds.

Here it as again at the K-Bar pizza restaurant in Gardiner, Montana as we wait for a 16' cheese pizza. Cunningly delayed so I can sink three pints of "Dump Truck" beer and get truly pickled before the walk home to the Yellowstone Gateway Inn, and the music is unrelentingly 70s' "classics".

When I was growing up all you heard in bars and restaurants was 1950s easy-listening music. For about three decades that lasted, and then it was supplanted by easy-listening 70s rock. We're still there, at least in Gardiner, Montana. Same is true in much of St. Louis.

Decades of great music utterly ignored. I'd sooner hear 50's and 60's rock than the endless repetition of 70's California soft rock or Midwestern arena rock. We stopped at hamburger joint on our way up to Helena, just over the Montana border. The owner was listening to Elvis, Freddie Cannon, Buddy Holly – it was like a breath of fresh air!

Now, though, fresh air, though, is what we've got. The windows are open, the breeze is flipping the curtains.

Such a lovely place.

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