You are not in charge of me. Jacob queries "What's the address?" He types the details into a sophisticated GPS as I tell him, and a map of the location emerges. The music player is switched to when he scans the route, but the level is turned down so low that it is hardly unheard. What is "BB King's Bluesville?" I inquire while reading the screen. Jacob exits the driveway and moves in the direction of the main thoroughfare. “Yeah.” "Up the ante." He looks across at me, one eyebrow c*****g in astonishment. Do you like the blues? I nod. “Yep.” I discovered the genre in high school thanks to a buddy. Even though I don't listen often, I absolutely like the sound. There is a Bonnie Raitt song playing. Compared to the classics I'm acquainted with, it's happier, but it's still fantastic. I