As I type these words, it's Friday evening. The sun is setting and it's quiet around my house.
That's certainly a far cry from the way it used to be back in the fun-loving days of my youth.
Yep, I know what you're thinking: "Geez, this guy loves to blather on and on about his younger days. We get it! The good old days were awesome, and everybody gets old. Give it a rest already."
While it's true, reflecting on those good old days is a staple of the middle-aged man's mind, that's really not what today's blog entry is really about. Instead, I'm thinking about music ... good, blood-pumping, loud Friday night kind of music.
The kind of music guys like me still like to rock while we're driving to and from work in our tasteful, middle-aged guy sedans.
Remember Friday night's as a teenager? They were filled with excitement and anticipation. Whether we were hanging out with our friends or going on a date, Friday's always made you feel alive.
More often than not, for me Friday's included music, either from the radio, the cassette tape or (yikes!) the 8-track player.
The music of my era (70s and 80s rock-n-roll) provided a soundtrack to all that Friday night fun.
It's funny, I can remember turning up the music in my '73 Volkswagen and singing along at the top of my lungs. If I was with my friends, it was one thing. Then, rocking out was just fine. Heck, it was almost expected.
But singing to yourself? That wasn't cool. Consequentially, whenever I drove past someone or stopped at a light I'd sit silently, afraid of looking like an idiot rocking out to the music.
Perhaps it was just me, but I always felt like getting caught singing in your car was like getting caught with your finger in your nose. Basically, it was like social suicide.
Know what else is funny? Now I don't care if I look like an idiot. Shoot, I know I am an idiot, so why try to hide it?
I'm a middle-aged, male idiot and that hardly puts me on the endangered species list.
Earlier today, while driving to and from work, I was blasting my iPod (much, much better than an 8-track, right?) in my car, singing along without a care in the world. It was awesome!
It was the middle of a work day and there I was driving around in my grown-up car, rocking out to Journey's "Stone In Love" just like I used to do in that '73 Volkswagen on a Friday night.
Rock on, middle-agers. Rock on.
1 comment:
Far out post, Jimbo. Far out!
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