(showing my age, here)
I loved Sly and the Family Stone. Many of their songs became personal anthems over many summers.
End of the Spring and here she comes back.
Hi, hi, hi, hi there.
Them Summer Days.
Just listening to it now (it’s short at 2m40s) fills me with scents and sounds and tastes. The sound of the ball hitting the strings and bouncing off the court playing tennis with Denny and George and Any and Mark. Ice cream at the Puritan and Greek subs at Sabo’s.
Wondering if Sarah would find another.
I understand the neural mechanisms of memory and why some memories are stronger than others.
To feel the same joys and pains. To remember a last, final kiss. To know before our lips parted there would not be another.
The scent of her room. The scent of her. Laughing. Holding. Planning great things which would never be.
She went to college somewhere in Maryland (I think). Andy to Tufts, George and Denny to UNH, Mark I have no idea where.
I applied to many schools, visited quite a few, was accepted at some. My PSATs and SATS put me in the 99th percentile. My grades put me near the bottom. Colleges and universities sent me congratulations on my scores, ignored me because of my grades.
And switching musical genres but not periods, they took off to find the footlights, I took off to find the skies.
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