You can't pawn your memories, but you can find them
By Peter Frischetti | Columnists I picked up the car keys, kissed my wife, and told her I was driving over to the pawn shop. “You’re going WHERE?” “There’s no way you’re going to write about a porn shop.” Huh? Oh. She thought I said something else. “No, not that, I’m going to the pawn shop. P-A-W-N.” I’ve always been fascinated by pawn shops, and on my visit the other day I discovered why. On the back wall of Panama Pawn and Jewelry were a dozen or so guitars. Musical inst...
Source: waltonsun.com