In my mind, or, Thanks a lot, Pandora.

Music has a power that is, for me, anyway, beyond all other art forms. Other bards and scribes, from Shakespeare to Dumbledore, have commented on this as well, and usually far better than I.

For me, it's two-fold. A good piece of instrumental music can evoke emotions without words; by the same token, a good piece of writing can hit at the heartstrings without need for a background score. But put them together, and the right song, at the right time, can turn me into a blubbering mess.

We know this, all of us. It's why we make mix tapes for our friends, it's why we turn the radio up for certain songs, it's why we have our happy music and our angry music, our falling-in-love music and our break-up music.

I stream Pandora when I'm at work, typically (fun fact, cube farms are highly distracting, even for those of us who work well in chaos). I also, in a previous work-life, used to write software, and periodically when a user would ask for feature that would call for the computer to be a mind-reader, we'd joke that the neural transmitters would be in version 7.

Well, I think Pandora has developed the neural transmitters, and worked with Sony to implement them.

For many of us, our college years are somewhat golden. It's the first taste of independence; it's frequently when we're exposed to people and ideas that may be very different. It's when we are free to protest, experiment, and do things for the sheer hell of it. It's when many of us meet our best friends or our soul-mates.

And most of us have a College Soundtrack. Mine includes such lovelies as The Violent Femmes, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Connells, and, of course, REM.

But the song that most brings back college for me is Carolina in My Mind. And, no, South Carolina, you don't get that one - Mr. Taylor grew up in Chapel Hill, and he did NOT mean South Carolina, Columbia, or the University of South Carolina when he wrote that one!

It's been nearly 31 years since I made the drive from Cullowhee to Chapel Hill with my Dad, my sister, and my niece. 31 years since we madly threw all of my belongings into my dorm room so that we could scamper across campus with my sleeping bag and pillow to the Campus Y, where I and about 200 other freshman would spend a couple of days at Camp New Hope. Freshman Camp gave us an entry into the larger Carolina world; we were taught the cheers, the fight songs, Hark the Sound, and, of course, Carolina in My Mind.

In 8 days, I will get up early, so that I can be at Koury dorm by 7 am, so that we can madly throw all of my son's belongings into his dorm room, before scampering across campus with his sleeping bag and pillow to the Campus Y, where he and about 200 other freshman will spend a couple of days at Camp New Hope, where he will meet friends, learn cheers, and sing Carolina in My Mind over, and over, and over.

There are a few differences. It's Carolina Kickoff now, not Freshman Camp. There's slightly more time for move-in, so hopefully I can have time to make up his bed (for whatever reason, that's my moment of closure with all of the kids. I just need that last act of mothering!). I live in Chapel Hill, so I have a plot to park on Franklin Street and walk him to the Campus Y, rather than just stopping long enough for him to get out of the car, as my Dad had to do with me!

Of course, the biggest difference is that it's 31 years later, and I'm the parent. And as much as I think I'm coping, that, my friends, is a HUGE difference, and a very tender one.

And, dammit, if Pandora is not pushing my buttons this week! I kid you not, Carolina in My Mind has come up on my stream at least once a day for the past week. I've gone months before without hearing that song, but somehow, it's everywhere this week. Neural transmitters is the only explanation.

So, for the next week or so, please excuse me; there are signs that might be omens that I'll be gone to Carolina; 31 years ago in my mind, but right here and now with my son.