There's no rap in Houghten.

I'm so glad the Monkees are oldies now, because that means they're somewhere on the dial again.

Here is a thought I've had for a while: It's a lot of pressure to be a songwriter, and especially one that actually makes it into the seemingly ever-dwindling pile of songs that get played eighty times a day in a single city, because sooner or later someone's last words will be the words you wrote, belted out at the top of lungs, out of key, right before a horriffic car wreck. And I ask: can you live with that?