Hitting the West Virginia state line on I-68 heading west, the sweet smell of Schaefer permeates the entire volume of the Civic. The cheery sound of cracking open a can of cheap and plentiful resonates off the plastic of the interior. Merrymaking commences in the back seat, coincidentally nearest the cooler.

A beer for the driver perhaps?

Certainly, comes the reply: if you turn off the best album of 1996.

Yes, the record that when first played delayed much-needed sleep by 3 full plays. Yes, the very opus of garage jazz that undefined and redefined rock-and-roll. Yes, the Fountain of Youth, the Atlantis, the Northwest Passage propelling rockers to seek -- but to date only grasp at -- its glory.

No. Onward! Anyone have to take a leak? Well, well, pass me a beer. Can't hear me? Enjoy.