I’d dreamed about setting up games in a small city college, and found myself thinking about a song as a result of it after I woke up. Then, my little ginger-fur friend plagued me to come in, tapping at the window by the door while imploring me with wide eyes, “Let me in.”
Letting him in, I began singing, “You belong in the house, carpet under your feet.”
The cat responded by asking me if I had anything to eat.
I returned to streaming the original song in my head. Here’s Glenn Frey’s song, “You Belong to the City”. It was written for the Miami Vice television series way back in 1985. It was a good year for me. I spent a few months in Africa, but that’s a different story.
Today’s song blasted out of my dreams and into my thinking stream. The dreams were wild, all good things that made me laugh or stand tall as a conquering hero. Nothing undermining, and no anxiety. Great stuff.
So why did this 1985 ballad emerge from that dreamland? I think “Broken Wings” fits it well. Like the dream ended and this was the song that played for me as the credits rolled. It was cool.
BTW, I’d never seen the video until I checked it out today. I was in Egypt, living in a tent when the song was released, part of whirlwind year that had me in stationed in South Carolina, but visiting Jordan, Guam, Korea, New Jersey, Spain, and Egypt. Interesting year.
More weather dictated theme music. I’m planning to dress, looking out the window, checking the temperature and forecast. Hey, fifty-one, windy as hell, but sunny. So, I’ll be walking in sunshine.
It was an easy jump in the stream to Katrina and the Waves and “Walking On Sunshine” (1985).
Walking along in damp and chilly sunlit air, my writing energies bubbled up. I was ready to write. From that streamed the phrases, “Put me in, coach, I’m ready to write today.” That’s a twist on the John Fogerty song, “Centerfield” from the album with the same name (1985). The song has become a baseball stadium mainstay in America. At least one major league player has complained about hearing it so often.
“Don’t say it ain’t so, you know the time is now.”
Well, here we go. The mid-term elections are done. Results are mostly in. Almost all issues are decided. A few exceptions are out there. Let’s go to James Brown singing “Living in America” (1985) for some reflection about WTF it all means.
Ah, today I find myself streaming Pat Benatar’s “Invincible” from 1985.
It’s a do or die situation – we will be invincible.
This shattered dream you cannot justify.
We’re gonna scream until we’re satisfied.
What are we running for? We’ve got the right to be angry.
What are we running for when there’s nowhere we can run to anymore?
We can’t afford to be innocent
stand up and face the enemy.
It’s a do or die situation – we will be invincible.
And with the power of conviction there is no sacrifice.
It’s a do or die situation – we will be invincible.
The usual nut cluster of dreams swept me last night, providing a sea of material to think about. When the dreams ended, I began streaming an eclectic selection of songs. “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” (G. Thorogood) “Gloria” (by Laura Brannigan), “Wild Horses” (the Rolling Stones), “Will It Go Round In Circles”, Billy Preston, and “Kyrie” by Mr. Mister. But the last song was Bryan Adams, “Summer of ’69”.
Summer of ’69 was a good year for me, a thirteen-year-old white boy living in a middle-class suburban housing plan in Penn Hills, outside of Pittsburgh, Pa. I had a good cotorie of friends, and was playing sports, enjoying school, and meeting girls. Likewise, when the song was released in 1985, I was with a unit I enjoyed. Although I was traveling a lot, the song fit my mood. Released in June, it was a big hit by the time I returned from the field to America a few months later.
The song becomes a unique bridge then, between my early teen years, my early thirties, and now, my early sixties. Let’s rock.
So, yeah, streaming this in my head: “You spin me right round, baby, right round.” That’s something to have going through your head.
I don’t know much about the group who performed it “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)”. The song came out in 1985. I was traveling a lot in the military. Stationed in South Carolina in America, I traveled from Africa to America to Asia, and back again, dipping down to Florida and Louisiana, up to WV, PA, Illinois, and to New Jersey, and a few other places. When in Asia and America, we were mostly cut off from modern pop culture. This was by the military’s doing, as we were trying to blend in. No uniforms, tee shirts, jeans, ball caps, and sports shoes (or cowboy boots, buckles, and hats), because those were all considered indicators that we were ‘Mericans. Always travel in a group of three, but never more than five. And don’t take the same routes, or travel the same times every day.
Anyway, I ended up with spotty exposure to what was happening in America, with these gaps that were sometimes sixty days long. Sixty days in pop culture? Songs came and went in that period.
First time I saw the video is today. Have to laugh. This song is catchy, though, like electronic popcorn, with easy to learn lyrics, right? It’s stuck in my head today, so, hello? Take it off me, would you? Before I get spun right round again.
A good friend of mine used to proclaim Tears for Fear’s “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” as the BEST SONG EVER. I’m always hesitant to declare a song BSE. Music speaks to moods and eras of life for me, just as books and movies do. What any of them depends upon how they fit into my life at the time. I can still use to them stream memories and experiences, though.
I haven’t seen this good friend in over twenty years. He changed, I changed, and we were in the military, and assignments changed. But, hearing this song, there’s his grinning face as he demands, “Turn it up.”
Thinking back on my life, I’m amazed how many songs are attached to moments with specific people.