At Which Point 16-Year-Old Zan Starts To Think 32-Year-Old Zan Is Just Bragging Now

Dear 16-Year-Old Me,

Tonight I'm going to see your second favorite band. The one you discovered on the tape you asked a friend to make for you before he left town for the summer (the one with no track listing, just a homemade cover, a photo of a man leaning into the trunk of a car, clipped from a magazine and carefully taped in place before you handed it to him to fill with whatever). You don't know yet that it's your second favorite band; you still think it's b-sides from your first favorite band. You're still figuring these things out.

He'll set you straight when he comes back in the fall, just before he tries to steal your car.

Sincerely,
32-Year-Old Me

P.S. Though he says he wouldn't have actually done it.

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