For Those About to Rock, We Salute You

While at work today, I tuned in to internet radio. Specifically, hard rock heavy metal internet radio. Songs that evoked a whole flood of sweet memories involving summertime swimming pool romances, all night skates when our wheels didn’t roll much, and watching sunsets from the trunks and hoods of cars, smokin’ cigs and drinking pop from ice cold glass bottles.

There was a movie that came out in the late 70s or early 80s called Over The Edge. It was about a group of rebellious suburbanite teenagers that spent a lot of time hanging out at the much despised rec center, vandalizing property, smoking dope, and generally doing all the things I described in the above paragraph.

I hate to admit it, but Lord Have Mercy, that was a fun time to be a teenager. I know that every generation seems to think their’s was the greatest. But for me, there is such a pull to return to those days. You’ve probably guessed correctly I’m living my midlife crisis.

Want to hear how I came of age? I was a geeky, sheltered fat kid and I didn’t really fit in with any peer group until I hit middle school. I was about 13 or so and found some people that didn’t care if I was a geeky sheltered fat kid. Sure, by most adults standards, they were very dangerous….chain wallets, denim jackets, some with pot leaf and Led Zeppelin patches on them, and of course, the dreaded LONG HAIR! Oh, and every one of these people had a pack of Marlboros stuck in their jacket or jeans back pocket. But God I loved them.

They accepted me into their fold and we became like family. Some went off to juvenile hall and some died. But we were brothers, sisters, lovers, and friends till the end. We threw our fist in the air, snuck out between classes to smoke a cig, and then gathered on the weekends to celebrate our youth with Boones Farm and rock ‘n roll.

Our anthems blasted out of car stereos and boom boxes while I got kisses from girls with root beer flavored lip-gloss. I had my first girlfriend at 13, a beautiful half-Cherokee girl who I’ve been mystically linked to my entire life. Girls don’t look the same today. Back then it was feathered hair, a pair of Levis and the latest concert shirt, sometimes covered with their boyfriends torn up flannel. Always a mixture of Loves Baby Soft and smoke next to their skin. It would drive you wild.

The car or motorcycle definitely made the man. As long as it was loud. And of course, whoever had beer made it even better. Most of the guys I ran around with all had older brothers to teach them the ropes. Not me, I had to learn how to be cool. But I had good teachers. You don’t run your mouth too much, you stand up for your buddies no matter what, and you didn’t go after the woman your buddy was seeing at any given time. Those were the rules. Everything else was negotiable.

The parties were legendary. A tapped keg in somebody’s basement or out in a field far away from civilization. Always with fire, a big bonfire.

Now look at us...houses with a mortgage, kids to put through college, 25 year class reunions, and job where I can listen to hard rock heavy metal internet radio and be a teenager again.