A few days ago I wrote about music therapy. Then, last night, I found myself in a pickup truck with my son. You know, that one who caused me so much trouble when he was born. The one who Dr. Magan pronounced 'born again' on the day of his birth. (You can read that story here.) That one. My youngest. My preacher boy. Anyway, if you know the two of us at all, you will know that spending two hours alone together in a truck will mean lots of laughter and probably some tear