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MANY years ago I was in a car group of four Brothers, driving back from a party gathering in Baltimore, Maryland to Richmond Virginia . Sidney was driving, I was riding "shotgun". Steve was behind Sidney, and the other Tom was behind me. We had the Beach Boys on the radio/tape player, LOUD, and having a GREAT time. Sidney was slapping the sides of the steering wheel to the music, ... I was slapping the dashboard. Steve was slapping the back of Sidney's seat, and Tom was singing along ( more or less) as we all were (more or less). We are on Interstate 95, about half way to Richmond, and it is dark, about 3AM. SUDDENLY, Tom yells out "HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP TORTURING ME WITH THIS MUSIC?!", and demanded to be let out of the car. Sidney is stopping the car as we try reasoning with him as he yells "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!".... that it is 50 miles to his apartment, and it is 3AM, etc., etc. In a panic accompanied by "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" Sidney pulls over and lets Tom out the car, and we pull about 50 feet ahead, watching him in the rear view mirrors as traffic goes by. To me, the problem was solved, Tom got what he wanted, and what he demanded, and I gave the "Wagons Ho!" sign for Sidney to continue. Steve says "We just can't leave him here, in the dark, halfway home ...", and we agree, although it confuses me, I recognize there is SOME truth to that. (edited) Steve says "We just can't leave him here, in the dark, halfway home ...", and we agreed, although at the time I seemed to only recognize that there was SOME truth to that. Tom gets back in the car, we turn the tape player off, and finish the trip in complete silence. I guess the Beach Boys surfing music is an acquired taste.