Today’s song: The Landslide, sung by one Ms. Stevie Nicks.

But first, Girl on the Swing: Yes, “What a long strange trip it’s been” did become our class motto — it was painted on a giant banner that hung somewhere along the front of our graduation risers, if I recall correctly. Shiver.

Now to the matter at hand: Once upon a time, GotS and I shared a small, poorly insulated apartment in Portland, Maine. As a result of the thin walls and doors, we could hear (and smell) everything going on around us. Meat cooking, men coughing, sexcapades … you name it. And every night (or so it seemed) we heard our upstairs neighbor walking past with her tiny dog, commanding it thusly: “Shut UP, Stevie!”

I don’t know when it was that GotS and I took to yelling that out whenever we heard Ms. Nicks on the car radio. But it was a habit that stuck.

I have nothing personally against Stevie. I’m sure she’s seen it all, had hard times, surmounted obstacles, and so forth. But the voice. Three and a half decades in, I can’t get past it. I also can’t resist attempting a mighty mediocre impression of it, either. Give to me your leather. Take from me, my lace.

But here’s the thing: If you can get past the voice, Landslide is poignant almost beyond bearability. I realized this only when I heard a version recorded by the Smashing Pumpkins. Suddenly the weight, the sadness … well, it brought me down.

Miscellaneous postscript: Remember that time on Dharma and Greg where Jenna Elfman greeted her mother, who was wearing a voluminous hippie skirt, with, “Thunder only happens when it’s raining”? Yeah. I do.