A Memory and a Favorite Song

I heard from my high school friend, Vickie, today and was reminded of the first time I met her and she poured a bottle of Dr. Pepper over my head. She wrote in memory of a time we stayed after school at the junior high and found a swing set and where we spent an afternoon swinging and talking about growing up. Her card to me reminded me that our class is heading into the last years of our thirties and that we, the class of 1990, will slowly turn forty in the next 365 days.

Perhaps we still feel young and can't believe we're not the fifteen year-olds we once were. Those were days of parties where we got together for pizza and a horror fill to scare ourselves to death. We'd wander neighborhood streets emancipated from school and our families, just to hang out and talk. Life was light back then and we were a circle of friends.

Twenty years later is a blink of an eye and now we're all over the country and living chosen lives that none of us could ever imagine.

In high school, my Nissan Sentra often played the Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians sound track and I can remember, vividly, the first time I heard the song in a movie shown by Ms. Smith the health teacher. I stayed after the class to find out whose voice provided that soundtrack. I became a fan that day and, in college, I found others who also listened to "Shooting Rubberbands at the stars. I suppose, in many ways, they've offered a soundtrack for my everyday and I am thankful for the noise that has comforted for a large portion of my life.