So there I was, out in the garage, trying to find something to use as an adapter to fit the garden hose to the tailpipe of my truck (I'm flabbergasted they don't sell these at Home Depot; I was close to settling for duct tape, which strikes me as dreadfully inefficient) when all of a sudden, all unbidden, the Small Faces' "Itchycoo Park" popped into my head.
Now I think I'll live after all.
See how it all balances out? One day the pestilential Mannheim Steamroller leeches away the last vestige of your will to live; the next you get Steve Marriott going "I got HIII-high!" thereby pretty much singlehandedly inventing heavy-metal singing (Robert Plant ain't even close) and the clouds clear away, food stops turning to ashes in your mouth, a spring returns to your step and you give the rising sun the glad eye.
It's a mystery.