You know, the music industry has it all wrong. It's not websites like Napster that ruined the public's appetite for actually buying music. It's the people in my apartment parking lot.

Right now, all of Oklahoma City is enjoying the latest epoc from 50 Cent due to the generosity of a young man that lives in my building. The hypnotic bass beat pounds from a car stereo whose material worth far exceeds the actual car in which it has been installed.

Due to the caring nature of my neighbors, I no longer have to purchase my own music; I can just sit in my living room and let the tapestry of rap/hip-hop/garage bands flow over me like a stream of mountain spring water riddled with the curse of profane pebbles.