Headcanon: Pigeonholed away in Dean’s mind is a map of nearly every classic rock radio station in the country, a mosaic of call letters and personal notes — “too many commercials” “annoying morning DJ” — and no matter where he’s driving, he always knows right about where one station is going to fuzz into static and which station he should switch to. It’s not even something he thinks about, any more than his mental list of gas stations within the Impala’s mileage or catalog of seedy motels along the route he’s taking. It’s not impressive. It’s just a part of the job.