love-rockets – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

Nostalgia

How Music is the Driving Force

Over the last few weeks, I saw performances by Paul Simon at Forest Hills Tennis, Bon Jovi at the Garden and Joe Jackson at the Beacon. Future shows include Squeeze at Radio City Music Hall, David Byrne at Forest Hills Tennis, Sting at Brooklyn Paramount and Belinda Carlisle at Palladium Times Square. I hope to see more. I do have a few Yankees-Red Sox games on tap.

All brought back memories. Or, as my mom said, nostalgia. Bon Jovi’s on-stage commentary put it best. He said, let’s party like it’s 1999. We all know Prince, whom, sadly, I never saw did that. Bon Jovi said Let’s go back to 1986. He references when his hair was a little fuller and his jeans were tighter. He continued, saying that all of you listening to me now were much younger back in the day. Probably all in high school and now we’re older.

As I listened to him, I was blasted back to my high school job at the Greenridge Plaza McDonald’s and when we closed the store. We all brought cassettes to put into the boombox to blast while we cleaned up. Remember cassettes and boomboxes? We had one of our managers, Uncle Dave, or Disco Dave, with his choices. Others had their choices. We used to fight over what we’d listen to. We heard a wild mix of Bon Jovi, the Cure, David Bowie, Cinderella, Depeche Mode, Genesis, Guns & Roses, Love & Rockets, Madonna, Mötley Crüe, Poison, U2, Van Halen and Wham. I liked most of it. Couldn’t stand and still can’t Cinderella, Mötley Crüe, Poison and Van Halen. Plenty of other acts made our playlists. They were either on mixed tapes, or albums that we pulled in and out of the boombox. We did not have the luxury of Apple Music.

Hearing Bon Jovi pushed me back to those days. I had visions of us in our uniforms scrubbing the grills, sweeping and mopping the floors. It made me think of the times we hung out in the parking lot after we closed. In our cars, we played what we wanted. In front of the stores, some of us had beer. Not me. I did nothing. That’s usually the case.

As for Paul Simon, I wasn’t around for Simon & Garfunkel’s heyday. I did see their reunion tour in the 2000s. I have seen Simon solo a few times and saw Art Garfunkel once at the original City Winery on Varick Street. As Simon played songs from the “Graceland” album, it reminded me of being driven to Scout trips, particularly our winter ski trip—my first- and only-time skiing. I did not do well.

It also reminded me of when I played music all night and kept my sister up in the next room. I made mixes. Most of the new wave and goth bands. But had to include the classic rock tunes. Elton John, Billy Joel, and the Beatles made the cut. Billy Joel was my first concert. I called in sick when I was supposed to close McDonald’s. I got to the former Brendan Byrne Arena with my family. Seated a few rows behind me were several of my coworkers. No one said a word about my illness.

I constantly listen to the Cure. Many times, I flash back to what was perhaps my first date, seeing them with the Pixies and Love & Rockets. We were too young to buy beer. Not that would have as I was driving. We had M&M’s at Giants Stadium.

All of the other bands mentioned do something similar. People who knew me in college often say they remember my Cure and Depeche Mode posters hanging on my dorm room wall. Sid Vicious hung on my room’s wall at home.

Good music, particularly the best generation of music ever, the 80s, is the driving force of keeping things going.

In Camp

Marc and Alana went to camp. They were in the section that was closed. This was the spot that was Marc’s many moons ago. It was closed down my people called professionals. The only thing they are professional about is stupidity. Campers were running around the remainder of the operating camps. Both were under capacity. Marc set up the fire lay. He would light it later. Alana was in her black bathing suit, yearning to jump into the lake. The two’s eyes met, and they frolicked down the lake. They jumped in. They swam for over an hour. They walked out of the lack, hand in hand, like love cats. They got back to their site. Marc lit the fire. Alana changed out of her suit to her The Cure t-shirt from the concert the two attended in August of 1989. Marc still had his shirt. That was one of the best nights of their lives. Thirty-five years later the two were still in love and still argued nonstop. Perfect. The steaks Marc grilled were perfect. The ice-cold Genesee Cream Ale was perfect. As were the bags of Wise chips. Alana wanted to bake brownies. For some reason, she could not find the ingredients. She would bring this up with Marc. Supposedly, he had a friend who was an expert on getting brownies. It was getting dark. Love & Rockets was cranking out of Alana’s iPhone. They were sitting by the fire and nodded to each other. Off they went to Marc’s old leanto.

Kari Continues to Think

Kari was sitting in her bedroom at home. She lived with her mom. She was thinking about life. She didn’t work much. Neither did Jay, for that matter. He worked odd jobs and never stayed at any too long. He lived in a hovel of a basement apartment at his dad’s place. Dad was ancient and likely had dementia. But he muddled along.

Kari was by herself and cranking Love & Rockets. “No New Tale to Tell” was playing. She never had a new tale to tell. She watched her boyfriend get beat up a few times. The guy could not carry on an intelligent conversation. Neither could she. They were a perfect match. Their souls were meant for each other. However, Kari wondered if she could do better. She texted Jay. He sent a few emojis. Kari was not a fan of those. She wanted to chat with her boyfriend in actual text. Not cutesy symbols. She wanted him to put in effort and show he loved her. Kari wanted him to tell her things.

While texting Kari, Jay sat on a Battery Park City bench. He was thinking about shooting glass at someone. He didn’t care that the foursome of Alana, Anat, Jerry, and Marc would probably find him and shut his antics down. He knows Anat is pregnant. He imagined in a few months there would be a fifth.