Certain songs bring flashes back to me of strong memories. I guess scents can do that too, but music tends to affect me the most.
The IPod set on random pulls up an oldie but goodie for me.
Def Leppards "Photograph" makes my eyes glaze over.
I can faintly see the multi-colored lights flash in time with the drums - which, in my head - make my body thrum with the beat.
One of my first paying jobs was to work the door at a roller skating rink.
The only one in several towns, it was a hot spot on a Saturday night for kids my age.
A friend of a friend got my friend a job, and then my friend got me a job.
We were in positions of power.
Did we abuse the power?
Hell yeah and absolutely.
If I didn't like you, you didn't get in.
If she didn't like you, she wouldn't play your favorite song until you had either left the building or were in the bathroom.
Petty, I know, but teenage girls can by bitchy like that.
After 10 pm, I could leave the door and hang out with my friend.
We would take turns spinning the licorice pizza. She would get her favorite singles lined up so she could skate to them and then she'd do it for me.
"Photograph" was my favorite at the time.
The first beat would scream out of the PA system and I'd be heading towards the boards. The lights would flash and I would glide over the floor.
The wind would attempt to muss my hair, but I had a helmet of hairspray shellacked on my head. Bullet-proof hair was an understatement.
Mere wind wouldn't budge a hair unless it were hurricane force.
But anything less than that was not something I worried about.
I would skate as fast as I could, which was a feat in itself as my jeans were painted on.
My friend would have to lace up my skates for me and I would do hers because bending anything below the waist was tricky at best.
I would fly around and around the rink.
My head would be thrown back and I would just laugh.
As if the faster I skated, the closer I came to flying.
One day I was sure I would actually fly.
The song was never long enough for me.
They never are when they're good ones.
3 comments:
Hiya Jenn sweetie,
Not heard from Welshie *looks sad*
Not has that snow. It's got quite warm here now, people are not sure what to do, it's thrown us.
Though you can always count on the little old biddies to stay wrapped up in the warm. Today was so hot but this little old ear out shopping had on some of those big furry boots that make you look like you have chopped a bears legs off and stuck them on your own.
LOL this post is so funny. The description of your hair. Oh thank god hair like that is a thing of the past. I almost feel like I was there with you. Tight clothing, no bending below the waist, man, we must all have been there at sometime.
Too funny.
That should say, not HAD that snow duh!
It's been pretty toasty here too.
It's so strange to wear shorts and be barefooted in March.
Usually I'm grumbling about how it's snowing one day and hot the next.
We went from Autumn, to 1 day of Winter, to late spring. I'm hoping this isn't an indicater of how hot the Summer will be.
That will bum me out if it's hotter than Hades this summer.
I hear you about old biddies and their shawls.
I sit across from a lady who weighs about as much as my thigh and she complains about how cold she is all day long. I think she might be anemic and is missing essential body fat. She's just a rail.
I've offered to share some of my chub, but so far she hasn't taken me up on my offer.
Ha! The furry boots! I had a pair in the 80s. They were made of Yak hair. Back then it was cool. Now it gives me the willies. They were really the warmest boots I ever had though. Even toastier than my Uggs.
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