As I rounded the corner toward Casa Magnolia yesterday afternoon, Bon Jovi's "Who Says You Can't Go Home" hit the radio airwaves...

I had a great time in Oregon and I do love that area, but it is really, really nice to be home. Three weeks away is a long time. Perhaps the couple in their 60s sitting next to me on the flight home yesterday hadn't seen each other in a while either, as they were uncomfortably affectionate. For five and a half hours. Fortunately, I slept through most of their love fest.

For those curious, I had no problems with security at the airport. In fact, it may have been the shortest line I've ever encountered at PDX. I've often find that airport to be the most zealous in terms of its security (highlighted by the time I was groped by a security guard who would have been better suited to a prison environment) but this time I breezed through.

Anyway, upon my arrival home, I immediately headed to my brother's, where I met Emily and spent some quality time with the crazy nephews. Matthew gave me some mashed potatoes off his plate at dinner, "because I love you." That is the kind of thing that assures I will live in New Jersey forever, no matter how much I enjoy the Pacific Northwest.

There was one small blip on my way out of Portland. I could not find the damn airport. I have been to that airport no less than 10 times, and have never had a problem getting there. I can find it with my eyes closed, which is why I wasn't too worried about getting directions.

But Sunday night, after drinks downtown with Tege and her husband, I headed to the airport to check into the hotel down the road. I must have been exhausted, because I somehow wound up in Washington. Then, after turning around, I missed the airport again and ended up back near downtown. Then I accidentally traveled through the hood of Portland. Just as I was about to completely snap, my favorite song came on the radio. I found the hotel two minutes later. It was like I needed some good karma, and Led Zeppelin provided it.

Speaking of musical matters, for the past 10 years, every time I've gone back to Ohio I have stopped in various offbeat music stores and pawn shops, in search of what has become a vision quest of sorts: finding a copy of the First Light: Reggae Meltdown! CD.

First Light was a Cleveland band we saw frequently during my days at OSU – they played Skankland in Columbus monthly. I never actually owned their CD, but had a taped copy of it that I listened to no less than 300 times. Not surprisingly, the tape fell apart a few years ago. I taped it back together, which was good for a while, but it finally completely disintegrated. So every time I visit Columbus, I always search the local shops in the hopes of finding a used copy of it. No luck.

While trying to use some of the 47 iTunes downloads I’ve accumulated thanks to buying airline tickets from Continental, I typed in First Light on a whim. I never expected to find it, but figured it couldn't hurt. Hot diggity damn. There, in all its musical glory, was the entire Reggae Meltdown! disc. It has been downloaded and is being burned to a disc as I type. Extremely good times. I do love the internets.

While we’re talking about iTunes, I think I’m going to have to start a new feature at Wine by the Color: Song I’m Almost Embarrassed to Admit I Downloaded from iTunes.

This week’s runaway winner: “Escape” by Enrique Iglesias.

Oh, the shame...