March 31st, Chapter 10 may end

Spring is here, people. It may be hailing, or raining, or windy, or muddy, or freezing, but the equinox has come and gone. Trees are budding, birds are singing, and things are punching their way up out of the ground. I've given up moping around and I'm writing again. I'm also looking for a new snappy title for this memoir I'm reading to you every Tuesday night, so if you have a great, good, or mediocre idea -- I'm open to it! Something sexy. But not dirty. Remember Tobacco Road? Good, no one remembers that, it was 1,000 years ago. But Erskine Caldwell wrote things that made people pretty sure that some steamy happenings were taking place among the young people populating his backwoods areas. Places like Newburg, Missouri. People that were a lot like the folks back home. Help me think of a title that conjures up young teens drinking orange vodka out of coffee mugs and dancing to rock and roll in a basement. Anything?