For a period of time, when he was about 15, my youngest son moved out of our home and in with friends. They lived in a drug infested, dilapidated apartment complex and we rarely spoke. Every week or so, I’d call and he’d actually answer. I’d say, “Metallica time?”, and he’d reply, “Okay”. That meant that it was okay for me to come pick him up for a visit. But, since we couldn’t speak to one another during that time without fighting, he’d get in the truck and we’d put on the Metallica Black album and crank it up. I’d take him to get a coke and we’d drive the loop that circled our town until the album was over. We’d sing…play air drums…just exist together. It was an indescribable blessing for me, as a mother of a drug addicted child, to have even one thing that we could relate to as one. This is our favorite song on the Black album, even now.