As I drive the SUV down the highway, loaded with ten and eleven-year-olds sugared up on birthday cake, I couldn’t help but smile as they began chanting a rhyme, obviously familiar to them but new to me. It included a reference to Jimmy Buffett which prompted me to query:
Me: Do you guys even know who Jimmy Buffett is?
Young Brett: I do! He’s that guy that turned up missing in the seventies that they think is buried in concrete in Giant’s Stadium.
Young Andrew: Dude, that’s Jimmy Hoffa.
Young Brett: Oh yeah.
