The Return of the Solid Gold Dancers

One of the fun things about holiday weekends is that the local radio stations usually play either some form of countdown of the best songs over X amount of time, or they have a theme weekend. Driving in the car today, I had the pleasure of flipping stations to hear a countdown of the best songs of the 80's, a "flashback" weekend featured songs from the 70's and 80's, and something with 90's songs. I guess if I wanted to hear something from last week, I would have to pull out my iPod.

Still, nothing causes nostalgia like music. You will instantly be transported to a particular time of your life with the right song...maybe even rediscover a long lost memory or just remember a particular feeling. The mere mention on these flashback weekends of the name "Marilyn McCoo" makes you remember the show "Solid Gold." Then of course you remember the Solid Gold dancers, the artists lip-synching their songs, and worst of all, Marilyn McCoo and Rex Smith performing their versions of the latest hit song. And this brings me to another interesting feature of nostalgia-the most horrendous, hated and detested music of that time has somehow become an old friend.

Case in point (or rather two cases): Guns 'N' Roses and Culture Club. Of anything that existed in the 80's decade, these two bands were just about 1 and 2 on my Detest List. I think the reasons to dislike Culture Club are pretty obvious. As far as GNR was concerned, not only did Axl Rose's voice just grate on me like nails on a chalkboard, but I also felt he was a little too full of himself.

Fast forward to the 21st Century. Now, if any songs by these bands come on, I will have this uncontrollable urge to crank it. Even "Karma Chameleon." And it is simply for the reason that I will remember what it felt like to hate these bands, which quickly leads me to remember how it felt to be 12 again, or 16 or 18. Remembering how it felt to be comfortably at home in my parents' giant living room watching MTV and wondering why Boy George existed. All the good times working on stage crew until 1 or 2 AM on a school night despite the fact that someone was blasting "Sweet Child O' Mine" on their boom box.

But, as much as I love anything from the 80's, being the time I really grew up in, there is something about 70's music that really sweeps me away in the warmest nostalgic feeling one could ever have. I was a little kid in the 70's, but I had much older siblings that played all the pop music of the times from Boston to Barry Manilow and everything in between. The moment I hear anything like the string section of a disco tune, the adult contemporary pop of a Dionne Warwick, or the classic rock of a Fleetwood Mac or Eagles, I suddenly find myself creating a specific feeling from all the memories I can find of that time.

It's really weird and very pleasant at the same time. The feeling/memory consists of being somewhere around my old house or neighborhood. It's always just before dusk, when the rays of the sun are at that oblique angle to make everything look golden, and it is always in the middle of summer so that it's about 80 degrees. My family is always around, and so are the neighbors I grew up with (whom, incidentally, I have not seen since). Our old Custom Cruiser station wagon is out front and we're playing basketball or some kids game like "Red Rover." And I don't have a care in the world, knowing that I'm loved and have everything I need and then some. I'm truly at home.

And it lasts right up until some jackass cuts me off because he's trying to make a left turn from the far right lane. Yeah, figure out where the hell you're going before you get in the car, you prick!

So anyway, if you ever find me and I'm inexplicably listening to the song "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Croft, you can bet that I'm doing it because I'm having that really wonderful nostalgic feeling of home. It does NOT mean I like the song.