This turns up a lot on lists of worst songs or most-hated songs, but I gotta tell you . . . when it's the spring of 1972 and you're a freshman in college and you're sitting around the dorm with people who are somewhat under the influence of various illegal substances and your arm is around a girl who's inexplicably called Moose even though she looks nothing like a moose . . . well, take it from me, this is a great song. The radio station we always listened to, KRMA, with studios in
, played it all the time. Catch those call letters? Every DJ who worked there, all of whom sounded just like Tommy Chong, did station IDs by saying, "Hey, this is Radio Karma, man." And then they'd play "A Horse With No Name" for the twentieth time that day. Buda, Texas
And this is what happens when you get me reminiscing about college. Best not to do that.