The other night, as The Boy and I made our way to the grocery store, we passed a couple of teenagers crossing Belmont, hand-in-hand. We're cut from the same cloth, The Boy and I, and it took each of us all of a second to see those kids and not immediately get wistful and romantic about what it meant to be that age, at this time of year.

"Being in love in the summer as an adult isn't as much fun," I said, before remembering that I was in the car with the man with whom I am in love. I am not particularly smooth, and he tends to forgive these transgressions. Besides, he knew what I meant.

The Boy gave me Rocky Votolato's "The Brag & Cuss," a month or so ago as he thought Votolato would be someone I'd enjoy. The album was sitting around his office, and The Boy is very generous when it comes to sharing such free gems with me. When I was sick a couple of weeks ago, he not only brought me orange juice but also Pearl Jam's "Live at the Gorge 05/06," a seven-disc set of awesomeness, filled with songs I have already listened to a million times over but all of which I can never grow weary. The Boy knows this and is always on the lookout for such things. I have little reminders of how well he knows me all over my house.

Anyway, I got so caught up in the Rick Astley Frenzy of '07 that I forgotten that I'd uploaded this charming CD until today. And this song came on and every single aspect of it reminds me of that carefree kind of love that you're suspended in when you're a kid and, if you're blessed enough, to grab bits and pieces of as an adult while making your way to the Jewel or getting over a nasty head cold.