Atari 2600 Project

Cystic Fibrosis Summer Camp '94: Charley and Jesse

July 1989 was my 2^nd year attending Cystic Fibrosis (CF) summer camp in Dowling, MI (outside of Battle Creek) and that’s when I met my 20 year old friend Charley. I was 10. Charley had been attending camp a few years prior to 1989 and we continued going until camp folded in 1996. Charley and I kept in contact through the years. In 1994 he sent me an Atlas book (still have it, looks new), because he knew I was taking Geography class my Freshman year in high school and figured I could use it. Charley worked at a map store in St. Louis, MO, where he and his family lived while attending local college. I received a B semester grade in Geography. Charley was proud.

No matter how busy Charley was, we kept in contact via postal mail and e-mail. There were summers that he didn’t attend camp, because of work or school, and I always understood. He was bummed when he couldn’t attend.

Through the years, my friend lived everywhere (laughs), in St. Louis, San Francisco, CA, Ames, IA (Graduate school- Iowa State University), Cleveland, OH, Minneapolis, MN, and his last residence was Omaha, NE, where he moved back home to live out his final months. Charley’s profession was a banker at KeyBank (Cleveland, OH) and later at U.S. Bank in Minneapolis, MN.

Charley died from CF on May 11^th 2007 at age 38. Through his death (years later) I’d meet his Mom, Alice, who I’ve known for 6 years. We connected quickly. I told her all the times I spent with Charley, the letters, and the things we had in common.

Last month she learned that I liked the Atari 2600 game console via my e-mail signature, when I noted that it was the 40^th anniversary (back in September) of the Atari 2600 system. She told me she still had Charley’s game system in the closet, where it had been for the past 25+ years. She asked if I’d like to have it? It could’ve been a rock that Charley had, I still would’ve said yes.

Atari 2600 Box (front)

Alice sent Charley’s Atari my way. I was hoping it worked, or I was going to have to do some repairs. I couldn’t believe that Alice still had Charley’s Atari in its original box. After waiting a week (had to order a part for it to hookup to a modern HD TV) I plugged it in and it worked. Alice sent along three games that Charley had, and would eventually send three more. I was waiting for fuzzies and lines to appear on the TV, being that Charley’s system was 36 years old. The picture was clear. If it wasn't, I would’ve had to order a radio frequency (RF) interference filter. I didn’t have to.

Charley's Atari 2600 (before) right out of the box

With accessing what parts I needed to order (and waiting for those parts) it took 29 days to make Charley’s Atari 2600 look new again. I replaced and restored a few things and made it shine…once again.

Charley's Atari 2600 (after) w/ new orange trim and shine

Below details everything that I did to Charley’s Atari 2600 to partially restore it. To see everything I worked on, please click on the link.

- Atari 2600 (CX-40) joystick –

* Washed washable parts w/ soap and water via toothbrush, soaked in vinegar

* Restored printed circuit board (PCB) due to worn contacts. Replaced w/ gold PCB board

* Replaced red (fire) button due to bottom nipple (worn) not touching the contact on new Board

* Replaced spring inside red (fire) button due to dark coloring caused by age

* Replaced white joystick handle (under the black joystick boot cover) due to two cracks

* Replaced black joystick boot due to age

* Replaced top cover due to 75% of paint coming off due to age

* Joystick had 65% of its function. Now has 100%

- Atari 2600 Top Case -

* Washed top case and faceplate in soap & water via toothbrush

* Painted trim (orange) on faceplate, lost 80% of its original paint due to age

* Mixed Acrylic Cadmium Orange Hue and Burnt Umber to get desired color

* Applied paint to Craft foam sheets and gently pressed front faceplate down on paint w/ painters tape for protection, let dry for 24 hours

* Applied a touch (little) of Pledge to top case and front for moderate shine

- Atari 2600 Bottom Case -

* Washed bottom case by hand with soap and water

* Fixed Atari Super Service (repair) sticker that was peeling off w/ multi-purpose adhesive spray, applied w/ q-tip

- Atari 2600 (Switchboard) Inside -

* Cleaned switchboard with compressed air

* Cleaned switchboard with 71% alcohol pads, let dry for 10 minutes

* Cleaned inside switches (Power (On/Off), TV Type (color b-w), Left Difficulty (a b),

Right Difficulty (a b), Game Select, and Game Reset with 91% rubbing alcohol w/ q-tip

* Cleaned metal Electromagnetic Interference (EMI) shield case w/ 71% alcohol pads, let dry for 10 minutes

- Atari 2600 Motherboard -

* Cleaned motherboard with compressed air

* Made sure all (4) chips were clean and secured in place

* Accessed ribbon cable from the switchboard to the motherboard

- Atari 2600 Cartridge Connector -

* Cleaned cartridge connector where the game cartridge slides into the Atari 2600

* Cleaned contacts w/ craft foam sheet (inserted) and 91% rubbing alcohol, dry for 10 minutes

- MISC -

* Purchased Gold Plated RCA Female to Coax (male) Adapter to work with modern TV

* Replaced radio frequency (RF) cable with gold plated RCA stereo cable (goes from Atari to TV) for better secured connection, kept original RF cable for backup

* Replaced Atari 2600 power adapter due to age of original, which was very dry

* Cleaned all game cartridge plated contacts with Brasso & q-tips

* Cleaned all game cartridge plated contacts w/ 91% rubbing alcohol & q-tips to get Brasso off, dry for 5 minutes

- Atari 2600 Paddles -

* Charley never used the paddles, they look new

- Charley’s Atari 2600 Games - I Purchased Donkey Kong

* Top row, left to right: Combat (1977), Frogger (1982), Superman (1979), Donkey Kong (1982), SeaQuest (1983), Missile Command (1981), and Defender (1981) 

Jim Binkley: 10 Years Later

 Meeting Big Bink

As I skim through photos of my late friend Jim Binkley, I view them differently, and have done so since Jim committed suicide at the age of 63 on October 24th 2006, 6 days after my 28th birthday. Jim set fire to his home (he lived alone at the time) in Clarkston, MI and then shot himself in the head with a hand gun, which pulling the trigger is something you can't take back. Once it's done, it's done. 10 years later, I'm still trying to find answers to my silent questions, afraid to ask.

I'd like to remember Jim as a person who was there for others, and to me, he was.  To me, James E. Binkley wasn't the person I described in the first paragraph. At times, that's how depression works. We don't know who's depressed, because there aren't any signs or that individual doesn't tell anyone. How often do people raise their hand and tell the world that they're depressed without being asked?

Jim's son Mike Binkley died from Cystic Fibrosis (CF) on February 19th 1996. Jim started volunteering at Camp Onkoi Benek (Indian for to conquer tomorrow) in 1995, which was a summer camp in Dowling, MI devoted to kids/teens/adults with CF. I too went to CF camp every summer starting in 1988, but in 1995, that was Jim's first year as a councilor, as in previous years, he'd just drop Mike off for the week.

(below) 

CF Camp '95: Sometimes people get creative and paint their old tennis shoes. That's Jim for you.

Bruce Gregory and Jim were both our group councilors that Summer '95 (which consisted of male senior campers) and Jim and I instantly became friends. He was a funny guy, who at times wore cartoonish t-shirts, which I got a kick out of. I didn't know how Jim got involved with CF camp until after camp was discontinued in 1996. He had told me the story about Mike. I could tell in his voice it was a topic that he didn't want to talk long about.

During the months after camp '95, Jim and I kept in contact via letters (before the days of e-mail) during the months after camp '95. Jim sent me a humorous card for my 17th birthday that featured two women in sexy bikini's and the front read.

'We Heard It's Your Birthday And We Want You To Come Over'

The inside read.

'To Mow The Lawn'

:)

Jim pulled one on me. It's one of my favorite birthday cards. I could actually see Jim setting me with two attractive girls and having them walk up to me to tell me that they wanted me to come over, and when I got there, they'd inform me that they asked me to come over to mow their lawn.

Jim didn't write a lot, but when he did, it was in the form of a funny card with a message enclosed. I always told him how well I was doing in school (sophomore year) and if I had any girlfriends. I didn't that year, I was still getting over my nearly 8 month relationship with my ex-girlfriend from my freshman year. Jim (if he wrote a letter) would tell me what he'd been up to and always told me to do good in school.

That next summer I was afraid Jim wouldn't make it to CF camp '96, due to injuring his back. He explained to me in a letter that it was doubtful he'd be there, but in the end he attended, and I was happy. Jim was once again a councilor, but for the younger boys that summer.

After camp '96 we kept in contact via postal mail. I didn't realize that Jim lived in Clarkston, MI (35 minutes away). I don't know why we never got together. He seemed quite private and being 18 years old, I wasn't.

CF Camp Afterlife

Camp Onkoi Benek discontinued after the summer of '96, due to more cases of kids/teens coming home and culturing different bacteria in their cultures/sputum samples. I (then) didn't worry about anything like that, because for one, I didn't really know about those cases nor did I realize the CF community was becoming more aware of CF'ers catching bugs from other CFer's from close contact with one another. I started becoming more aware of it in 1997, when February/March of that year, I learned why there wasn't going to be camp.

I invited Jim to my high school graduation party in June 1998, but he didn't attend. I wouldn't see Jim again until 1999, as a group of us CFer's and non CF councilors got together for a 3-day weekend at the Bavarian Inn Lodge in beautiful Frankenmuth, MI. I saw Jim once or twice when I arrived at the lodge and didn't say anything to him because I was unpacking and getting my belongings out of my vehicle. Half an hour passed and he came up to me and said.

"How long are you going to ignore me, hopefully for not the entire time we're here."

Of course Jim being Jim, he said that in a sarcastic and jokingly tone. I responded.

"I wouldn't ignore you Jim, I was grabbing my belongings and getting things situated in my hotel room. It's great to see you."

During those few days, Jim and I talked quite a bit, especially one late night at the bar/lounge area as he had a cold beverage. He talked about Mike and a few stories that he recalled. I remember talking to him and it was like he was in a daze. I'd talk to him and it looked like he was looking at someone behind me. I'm not sure how many beers he had (maybe just one), but it was like he was down in the dumps. That was the first time I saw a different side of Jim, which at that time I didn't think much of, but days after our outing (especially after his death), I thought he was just down because he was recalling memories of him and Mike. The next day he was fine.

I had a good time during those three days with Jim, Ski, (Matt Jastrzembski), and CFer's Ann Marie Jewell, and the late Debbi Ajini. There were others as well, but I didn't know who they were.

Continue 

Jim Binkley: 10 Years Later Part II

Remembering Christy White 15 Years Later

Anytime I see a bench, I always think of her, due to the dreams I have (part III)

To those that I went to school with (and others), a lot of you didn't know that there was a special friend in my life from 1995-2001, someone to share my ups and downs with, someone who could tell me their fears, their whispers, and their struggles. Christy Nichole White was that person. We both had something in common and that was Cystic Fibrosis (CF). I knew Christy for 6 years, and during those years we talked on the phone, postal mailed one another, chatted on the internet and saw each other a few times. I deeply miss my friend.

April 7th marks the 15th anniversary of Christy's passing from CF (Sepsis) and there hasn't been a year that I forgot. But to be honest, if it wasn't for the 2010 film 'Listen To Your Heart ' I wouldn't have wrote anything. You can currently watch the film on Netflix.

The film touched my soul and it reminded me of when I went through 6 months of chemo therapy back in 2011 due to having stage 4 non-hodgkin's lymphoma from my anti rejection medication due to my double lung transplant in Sept 2010. I wished I had a friend by my side. 

The main character (Danny) in the film was so lucky to have someone care for him the way his girlfriend did. Heck, even if they were just friends, he still was the luckiest guy in the world. But. . it's a movie and I realize life isn't a fairy tale.

(2000)

I received the call that Christy had passed away from my camp friend Jim Binkley (non CFer) on Sunday, April 8th 2001 around 6 PM ET. I was in shock. I hadn't talked to Christy for nearly 9 months and I didn't know that she was sick or in the hospital. Wednesday, April 11th 2001 at 10:45 AM ET was her funeral. A service was held and Christy was cremated. I did attend.

I woke up at 5 AM and Jim came to pick me up at 8 AM. Before Christy's funeral that morning, we headed to the funeral home around 9:15 AM because he wanted to stop and grab a funeral pamphlet for someone who couldn't attend her funeral. I have no clue who that individual was. Ann Marie Jewell was the only other CFer to attend, along with her Mom. It was nice to see the both of them again.

I remember Jim's exact words once we stepped inside the doors.

"Do you want to go inside and see Christy, she's still here?"

I took a deep breath in and said. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Jim and I walked up to Christy and I remember telling him, even in death, she still looked beautiful. I remember trying to hold back the tears as my eyes watered, and I did. My stomach was turning, and just like the time I went and visited Christy on March 4th 2000, I was nervous.

Jim told me he'd be back in a bit.

I hadn't seen Christy in 11 months, but I knew what Jim did. He was giving me my private time to say goodbye to her, in my own way. Jim and I were the only two people in the funeral home, besides the funeral home director, who graciously gave me time alone to be with Christy. I knew this was my time and I would never have it again.

I slowly walked closer to Christy with my hands clasped behind me. I remember shaking my head sideways and whispering softly to Christy, as the gates opened and tears flowed down my face.

"I can't believe this is happening. It just seemed like 11 months ago we were chasing each other around the school yard. I was pushing you on the swing and you were giggling. I was just holding you. .  saying how happy I was to see you after 3 years. Chris. .  it wasn't suppose to be like this. I was the one who was suppose to go first, remember?"

All I could hear in the funeral home was silence. For the very first time in 6 years, I couldn't hear her breathe, she wasn't struggling to breathe due to her diseased and damaged lungs. Her chest wasn't struggling to move up and down. She wasn't coughing. She was quite. .  my world was quite.

I knew for the next 15 minutes, this was it. I needed to say goodbye on my own, just the two of us. Together. I held her cold hands. I never wanted to let go. This time though, she wasn't there to wipe away my tears, as she did back on March 4th 2000, the last time I saw her. I cried on that day, because yet again, I was leaving her. She said to me on the drive back to her house.

"Don't cry (with a smile on her face), you'll make me cry."

I looked over and she had a tear down her left cheek.

Christy and I were just friends, but I always thought of us as special friends. I always enjoyed our conversations. I could do something nice for her and even if it was something small, or large, her appreciation said it with her smile.

March 4th 2000 I said a lot to Christy face to face that I had wanted to say through the years, and looking back, I'm so glad that I did. I'm so glad I was able to see her smile. I was so glad to call her my friend. I cared for her.

     ' The Stable Song ' by Gregory Alan Isakov w/ lyrics

Remembering Christy 15 Years Later Part II

My favorite picture of Christy.

I walked over to the bulletin board and I remember saying the following.

"I missed out on so much of your life, and I'm truly and deeply sorry."

I just wanted to hug her, hold her, and tell her everything was going to be ok. I didn't want to leave the funeral home. I just wanted to stay until she woke up from her sleep. In reality, I  knew that wasn't going to happen. 

Christy and I never had any pictures together, and I remember thinking how all her friends were so lucky to have pictures of her with them included.

She laid there peaceful and all I could do was think of the good times we had together. It has been 15 years, but I still remember what she was wearing. She was wearing a baby blue top. Her hair was exactly as it is above, blonde with a reddish tint and same hair style as well. A cross with beads was clasped in her hands. At the funeral (along with a lot of other people), I placed a stuffed Tigger toy in her casket, because she loved Tigger and Winnie The Pooh.

15 years later I still remember those 15 minutes that Jim gave me to say my final goodbye. It was with no one around, and a downpour of tears.

Thank you Jim. (RIP: 10-26-06).

After a tragic event, there always seems to be the aftermath. After Christy passed away, I had such a hard time sleeping at night off and on for the next 3 years. All I could do is picture her face and think of her. Sometimes I would hear noises in my head and it just kept me up. Sometimes I'd be seconds away from falling asleep, then I'd hear a whisper or someone saying something. Eventually. .  all that went away.

It took me 6 years just to be able to say her name, think of her, and not actually cry. What helped during those years? Making blogs and web pages. I had made a website via Geocities (remember that back in the day?) 6 months after she passed away. I kept the pages up and started typing blogs. I actually found that website, and since Geocities is no longer around, the page might look funny and some links don't work due to the service no longer in use, including music. 

At the end of this, I enclosed Christy's Memorial from October 2001, 6 months after she passed away. 

Writing blogs etc is therapeutic for me, and cheaper. :)

These glamour shots were taken several months before Christy died.

During those six years there were many times I'd just plop myself on the floor with my back against my bed and ball my eyes out as I went through pictures of Christy at 3 AM in the morning. There was no grave site (since Christy was cremated), so I couldn't just drive over an hour and a half and talk to her. I had nothing of hers. There was no physical presence left, and that hurt me and made me depressed throughout those 6 years.

I'd actually pray that I would dream of Christy, just so I could feel what it was like to be around her again. Not just that, but to have a physical conversation with her.

This is actually going to be the first time I mention this, but thanks to a certain individual, they helped me move on, and they never knew it. With a tear, I'm sad to say this person is no longer in my life. I'm a firm believer if you're not like other individuals, than those people don't want anything to do with you. Period.

The person that came back into my life was a CFer from CF Camp, and they actually were the one that introduced me to Christy back in July 1995. I was very hesitant to see this person at first, thinking I would never see them again, which was a very common thing that occurred at CF Camp. You left your friend(s) and some you never saw again, due to them dying or they just didn't return to camp. I was afraid of not seeing this person ever again.

We had a great time together, but in the coming weeks and months, things just fell through, and to be honest, I just wasn't good enough for them as a friend. So what do you do? There's nothing you can do. They just move on, toss you to the side, and go on with their life. I've learned that's the way people are, especially ones who have walls. I guess that's the motto of today's society, just move on.

It broke my heart 15 years ago to see my friend at the funeral home before she was moved to the church for her funeral services. It crushed me at her funeral, knowing I'd never see her again. Something happened to me after Christy died, and I haven't been the same since, and I know I'll never be what I was before her death.

2007 I thought my life would change for the better, to get back into contact with a CF friend, to become friends with her again. From that experience, I've learned not to get excited about anything in life, because if you do (at least for me), there's going to be a dark cloud right behind that happy cloud. You want to know the real sad part? I don't think some people realize what or how they make other people feel, without knowing what they're doing.

In 1995 or 1996 Christy wrote me the following in one of her letters. She told me she would never stop talking to me, and that she'd always care and be my friend.

The main character Danny in the movie 'Listen To Your Heart' said it best toward the end of the film to his girlfriend.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

I look back on that letter that Christy wrote and wonder. . . .  how come all the people that care aren't here anymore?

   ' Heart Like Yours ' by Willamette Stone w/ lyrics
   (from the 2014 motion picture soundtrack If I Stay)

Remembering Christy 15 Years Later Part III

For the past 3 years I've had two dreams that were the same. I dream about a blonde girl in a lovely and breathtaking white dress near a creek. She's near a large tree and there are about 4-5 kids running around the tree, about 30 feet away from her. 

Where am I in this dream? I'm on top of a small hill next to a bench standing up and just watching her, as she slowly walks along the edge of the creek. The grass is Ireland green, with no weeds or dandelions in sight.

Now you see why I love benches, because I think of Christy anytime I'm near one.

In both dreams, I never walked down near her, which she's about 500 feet away from me. I don't know who the girl is, but I can only guess it's Christy. She's the only girl I ever dream about in my sleep. I can see her face, but at a distance, and I can't make out who it is.

Since I'm extremely sensitive to noises, it was so peaceful. No loudness, no being jolted by noises that rattle me. In my dream, whatever place this is, I was so relaxed and at peace.

This is a place I would love to be. One day I hope to get back there in my dreams and finish the story. Maybe it's just my brain playing mind games, but whatever it is, and whatever it takes, I'll get back there.


Here we are 15 years later and I still think of her during the day, at night, and in my dreams. That won't change until I die, and sometimes life's plans don't work out, as she left before me. Somehow, someway, I'm still here, but maybe. . .  just maybe. .  I'll embrace her once again.

Until we meet on that bench.

Christy's Memorial from October 2001

My playlist of songs that remind me of Christy

Christy's Poetry that she wrote to me (site from Oct 2001)

                        PROMISE by Ben Howard
   (from the 2014 motion picture soundtrack If I Stay)

Wake Me Up When May Ends

Chapter VII

Wake Me Up When May Ends

You And Me by Lifehouse- (wedding edition/extended)
This is my favorite slow song.  Anytime I hear this song, I think of Dawn, even though it would be impossible to dance to this song at our prom, because it came out in 2005.  I love this song.  I hear it so much on the radio, and I smile.  This was my only wish that didn't take place at prom.  This song being played.  Doc Brown, get the time machine ready. :)

This is my favorite prom picture that Dawn and I took together.  I didn't want to do any graphic design work on it, like I have in some of my previous images.  This picture speaks volumes.  You can't put a price on this photo or memory.  Both are priceless.

So there I was.  It was Saturday, May 9th 1998.  I was putting my tux on and feeling the butterflies.  I felt like a million bucks and I knew this was going to be a wonderful night.  Dawn and I would be sitting at a table with a few of my friends.  I knew Dawn might feel like an outsider, because she didn't know anyone, but I was hoping she'd feel welcomed.

I left about 5:30 PM or so to pick Dawn up, because our prom didn't start until 7:00 PM and it lasted until 11:00 PM.  I also brought my camera for pictures.  I stopped by Lonny's house because he and his family wanted to see me in my tux.  If it wasn't for Lonny, Dawn and I never would have met.  Looking back, I kinda owed that night to him.  It's amazing how much of an impact a 13 year old can have on your life.

On my way over to Dawns, I thought about my Cystic Fibrosis (CF) camp friends who never went to prom.  Why?  Because they died and never were able to put on a tux, or a dress, and have photos taken, and the memory of going to a senior prom.  Some died as teens, mostly before the age of 17.  I thought about Joel Rabideau, John Fowler, Brian Weber, Dana Maynard, and Melissa King.  None got the chance that I was getting.  And by god, Dawn and I were going to have a good time, because (like so many) I was lucky to be alive.  Like many, I was told I would be dead by age 8.

There I was, on Dawn's front doorstep about 6:00 PM.  Seconds away from knocking on her door (can't recall if she had a door bell or not).  I remember taking a deep breath in and just telling myself to relax, everything was going to be fine.  Dawn's younger sister or brother answered the door and they let me in.  Dawn was still up stairs getting ready.

I remember looking at her as she swiftly came down the stairs, as her dress glided.  I thought.

"OH MY GOSH!."

Dawn was so beautiful.  She looked so pretty and so wonderful.  She was glowing. If it were cloudy outside, the sky would be filled with glittery rays from the sun. I was at awe.

I placed her corsage on her hand and she pinned a boutonniere on my tux jacket.  We headed outside and took a few pictures.  Her parents weren't home (that I can recall), so I think it was her younger sister Holly, or maybe her Mom (memory blank) who took the pictures. Dawn and I were exactly the same height, so it worked out perfect.  I never realized there were girls who actually were my height.  Who knew?  HA!

I remember like it was yesterday.  I held open the car door for her as she got in.  I remember before we left, I looked at her and told her how beautiful she looked.

So we headed to Bakers of Milford and we had a blast that night.  I truly wish I could go back to that night, and even the entire month of May, because planning for prom was actually fun.  It felt like a dream, and I wanted no one to wake me up until it was over.

I have to admit, slow dancing with Dawn and holding her was very nice.  And no, a 10 year old didn't have to drag the truth out of me. I didn't want that night to end.

For anyone that has a terminal illness or anything they're dealing with in life, you know precious moments don't come around every day.

After prom we both decided we wanted some ice cream, and the only place that was open around midnight was Big Boy in Hartland, MI right off US-23.  So there we were, talking, smiling, and eating ice cream at around 12:30 AM.  My curfew was actually 2:00 AM.  I can't recall what Dawn's was, probably about the same time.  So about 1:00 AM I took her home, which was right down the road.

So there we were sitting in her drive-way.  I'm not sure what we talked about, but we were only in her drive-way for about 5 minutes or so.  I still was going with plan A (hug).  I was too darn shy to even give her a hug.  Then a few seconds later, I remember the exact words she said to me.

"Well, I had better get going Jesse, come here and give me a hug."

I just didn't want to screw the night up with any awkwardness, because I kept thinking of my bad experiences at my freshman and sophomore homecoming dances.

Fast forward 15 years later, I would have definitely given her a kiss on the cheek.  I don't care if it would have made me think twice, I should have taken that chance, and I never did.  So kids, if you're reading this and you're taking a friend (someone you know well) to prom, go ahead and do the hug and kiss on the cheek.  Don't let that moment slip away from your fingertips like I did.

Little did I know as I drove off, it would be the last time I'd see Dawn in person, until 15 years later.

CONTINUE. . . 

'You And Me' (wedding edition/extended)
By Lifehouse
Year: 2005
My favorite slow song