In 1995, I was riding along through the American West with my first boyfriend. We were on our way to the Rainbow Gathering in Carson National Forest in New Mexico. We saw a hitchhiker, vaguely military looking, and pulled over. Our rider was a man named Cody. He was a homeless Vietnam Veteran.
He had a Willie Nelson tape and we let him play it, as we were well sick of our Cranberries album and whatever else we had by then. We had been…