All summer I was attracted to Kid Rock’s song “All Summer Long.” It not only brought back the memories, it made me feel the primal draw of that time in my life, the desire to kick off my shoes and dance under the stars, flirt with boys and do what feels good without thinking too much of the repercussions. I know it is because Kid uses the guitar riffs from Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” which hit the charts in 1974 about the time I hit full swing in my adolescent experimentation with life. That song continued to draw me to the dance floor every time I heard it way into my 40s. In fact the “boyfriend” I had when I turned 40, played in a band and used to play and sing that song for me. I cannot hear those riffs and not want to dance today. Thank God I can still dance at 50, and my heart remembers that tug.
You have to see the video! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhjvpGt4r44 Throughout it, Kid is in a vintage Century boat that is IDENTICAL to my grandpa Hamilton’s. Take out the bikini clad girls and the stripper pole and you have my summers between Ohio and our cabins on Jack’s Lake in Ontario. Kid sings that it was 1989, for me it was ’74 through ’76.
It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long
Caught somewhere between a boy and man
She was seventeen and she was far from in-between
It was summertime in Northern Michigan
Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It's the simple things in life, like when and where
We didn't have no internet
But man I never will forget
The way the moonlight shined upon her hair
[Chorus:]
And we were trying different things
We were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
Catching Walleye from the dock
Watching the waves roll off the rocks
She'll forever hold a spot inside my soul
We'd blister in the sun
We couldn't wait for night to come
To hit that sand and play some rock and roll
While we were trying different things
And we were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long
Now nothing seems as strange as when the leaves began to change
Or how we thought those days would never end
Sometimes I'll hear that song and I'll start to sing along
And think man I'd love to see that girl again
WARNING: If you are one of my kids, you may not want to read this.
As a parent, I have never admitted to the wild nature of my youth although they try to convict me of it now and then. I have tried to steer my kids toward more productive uses of their time and energy. I did not permit lazy summers without sports, jobs or summer classes. Their curfew was my bedtime and sleeping past 10 AM was rarely acceptable. I have no doubt they found ways around some of my rules and I probably don’t want to know. At the very least it was much later in life that they got to be wasteful of their time and bask in the hormones of youth. And, maybe life is different and the dangers of wasting time in youthful folly more serious and important to avoid today.
My youth was very different and I don’t regret a moment as I reflect from this vantage point. My parents both worked and I was left in charge of the household from about the age of ten. I took care of my younger brother, seeing that he was fed and followed the rules I deemed appropriate. By the time I was a teenager out of school for the summer, I would sleep until noon and still have time to do all my chores, make dinner for the family and find a reason to necessitate going “out” that evening. The reasons given never matched the actual activity planned, but served to make everyone comfortable. My last two summers at home, I worked in town but that gave me more money and opportunity to follow my passions.
Cruising was still a popular way of finding the like minded and available. Firebirds and Camaros were the hot cars, but I dreamed of a red TR6 convertible. What I had to drive was a Dodge Coronet. Thank god, I had other assets besides a cool car. I loved hip-hugger bell bottoms, midriff tops, platform shoes, cut off jeans, long straight hair, afros, guys with tight jeans, WNCI and dancing. There was always a local band playing somewhere. Shoes found their way to the sidelines and I never waited to be asked. I didn’t need a guy to dance when there were girlfriends and the members of the band to flirt with. I admit we were trying different things and sometimes smoking funny things, but I was never into drinking whiskey from the bottle, maybe a beer now and then. Honestly, I felt high just from the music, flirting and dancing. It was intoxicating to move to the rhythm, know the power of sexuality and to make the guys do stupid things because they were thinking with the wrong organ. My girlfriend, Denise’s family wanted her to stay away from me saying, “that long blond hair attracts the wrong types.” Thank you god for long blond hair, because I sure liked the wrong types.
At my age, I have no use for mind altering drugs except for the post surgery vicodin, and a Starbucks latte. I have since given up midriff tops (to everyone’s relief), platform shoes and long straight hair. I would have added hip huggers, but everything hugs MY hips. The “wrong types” once attracted to me have been replaced by the kindest friends, most intelligent conversationalists, people who care about the world and their impact on it and just the “right types.” Although, maybe the wrong types just became the right types when we grew up. Ok, I still have an eye for bad boys who ride Harleys, but have hung up my leathers (notice I did not say I gave them away.) I prefer strong, intellectual, accomplished men; who, while wearing conventionality have just the slightest edge and dance to a slightly different beat.
You have to see the video! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhjvpGt4r44 Throughout it, Kid is in a vintage Century boat that is IDENTICAL to my grandpa Hamilton’s. Take out the bikini clad girls and the stripper pole and you have my summers between Ohio and our cabins on Jack’s Lake in Ontario. Kid sings that it was 1989, for me it was ’74 through ’76.
It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long
Caught somewhere between a boy and man
She was seventeen and she was far from in-between
It was summertime in Northern Michigan
Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It's the simple things in life, like when and where
We didn't have no internet
But man I never will forget
The way the moonlight shined upon her hair
[Chorus:]
And we were trying different things
We were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
Catching Walleye from the dock
Watching the waves roll off the rocks
She'll forever hold a spot inside my soul
We'd blister in the sun
We couldn't wait for night to come
To hit that sand and play some rock and roll
While we were trying different things
And we were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long
Now nothing seems as strange as when the leaves began to change
Or how we thought those days would never end
Sometimes I'll hear that song and I'll start to sing along
And think man I'd love to see that girl again
WARNING: If you are one of my kids, you may not want to read this.
As a parent, I have never admitted to the wild nature of my youth although they try to convict me of it now and then. I have tried to steer my kids toward more productive uses of their time and energy. I did not permit lazy summers without sports, jobs or summer classes. Their curfew was my bedtime and sleeping past 10 AM was rarely acceptable. I have no doubt they found ways around some of my rules and I probably don’t want to know. At the very least it was much later in life that they got to be wasteful of their time and bask in the hormones of youth. And, maybe life is different and the dangers of wasting time in youthful folly more serious and important to avoid today.
My youth was very different and I don’t regret a moment as I reflect from this vantage point. My parents both worked and I was left in charge of the household from about the age of ten. I took care of my younger brother, seeing that he was fed and followed the rules I deemed appropriate. By the time I was a teenager out of school for the summer, I would sleep until noon and still have time to do all my chores, make dinner for the family and find a reason to necessitate going “out” that evening. The reasons given never matched the actual activity planned, but served to make everyone comfortable. My last two summers at home, I worked in town but that gave me more money and opportunity to follow my passions.
Cruising was still a popular way of finding the like minded and available. Firebirds and Camaros were the hot cars, but I dreamed of a red TR6 convertible. What I had to drive was a Dodge Coronet. Thank god, I had other assets besides a cool car. I loved hip-hugger bell bottoms, midriff tops, platform shoes, cut off jeans, long straight hair, afros, guys with tight jeans, WNCI and dancing. There was always a local band playing somewhere. Shoes found their way to the sidelines and I never waited to be asked. I didn’t need a guy to dance when there were girlfriends and the members of the band to flirt with. I admit we were trying different things and sometimes smoking funny things, but I was never into drinking whiskey from the bottle, maybe a beer now and then. Honestly, I felt high just from the music, flirting and dancing. It was intoxicating to move to the rhythm, know the power of sexuality and to make the guys do stupid things because they were thinking with the wrong organ. My girlfriend, Denise’s family wanted her to stay away from me saying, “that long blond hair attracts the wrong types.” Thank you god for long blond hair, because I sure liked the wrong types.
At my age, I have no use for mind altering drugs except for the post surgery vicodin, and a Starbucks latte. I have since given up midriff tops (to everyone’s relief), platform shoes and long straight hair. I would have added hip huggers, but everything hugs MY hips. The “wrong types” once attracted to me have been replaced by the kindest friends, most intelligent conversationalists, people who care about the world and their impact on it and just the “right types.” Although, maybe the wrong types just became the right types when we grew up. Ok, I still have an eye for bad boys who ride Harleys, but have hung up my leathers (notice I did not say I gave them away.) I prefer strong, intellectual, accomplished men; who, while wearing conventionality have just the slightest edge and dance to a slightly different beat.
What hasn’t changed is that in my mind (and maybe my heart) I am still that young girl; still capable of most of the same thoughts and feelings although I may choose a different experience. I have not forgotten nor have I aged beyond the capacity to desire the intoxication of life. What a strange place to be. I could have never imagined back in 1976 that I would still want to dance every time I hear the guitar riffs from Sweet Home Alabama.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, and Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, and Lynyrd Skynyrd.
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