Tonight, We Are Young

Years ago, while serving in uniform I had several “periods of instructions” from guys with lots of letters behind their names teaching us how to take in and record the situation—essentially they taught us how to make a memory. They explained how different senses store memories in different parts of the brain. The intent or purpose of the instruction was to help us capture data in the field and then be able to ‘download’ it when we returned to base. So many hours of close your eyes and tell me, “What do you smell?” “What do you feel?” What do you hear?” “What do you taste?” and finally, “What do you see?” We got to the point where we were always on sensory overload, but it worked. Today, people say, “Eddy remembers everything”. Or, “Eddy is great with dates.” (I assume they are referring to calendar dates, but I like to think I am (was) great with the ladies I took on dates.) Regardless, we need our senses. They are the inputs for our environment. Our senses are the pathways for interpreting the world.

(l-r) Author, Shavone, Billy Joe, DEC 84.

(l-r) John, Randy, Author. DEC 81.

Many things we experience through our senses can transport us to another time and place. The smell of bacon reminds me of all the mornings camping as a young boy with my family. Mom would usually fry bacon and scrambled eggs. That aroma puts me in my sleeping bag at any of a hundred campsites. The smell of homemade rolls reminds me of Thanksgiving at my maternal grandmother’s house—we always had to eat at 1100!  The sight of a green rose stops me in my tracks; the world gets fuzzy then I am back in the arms of an older woman; her soft, smooth, skin, contagious laughter, and the scent of perfume on her wrists and neck. Beautiful memories. Songs can have the same impact on us. Something as simple as a college fight song can pull you back to a time of watching your team take the field. Music is everywhere: in the background of commercials, in malls or shopping centers, passing cars, and soundtracks to movies.

Over the last several months I have heard the song “We Are Young” by the Indie Rock group Fun. featuring Janelle Monàe. Yes, there is a period after the band’s name. This is the song that was in the Super Bowl ad for the Chevy Sonic. The chorus is simply:

Tonight, we are young

So let’s set the world on fire

We can burn brighter than the sun.

Author. AUG 1978

The lyrics accompanied by the drum, piano, and guitar plus the tempo in which they are singing, grab me. Throw in Janelle’s bluesy, sultry voice and it makes you sing along. This song takes me to a time of just beginning my “adult” life. A time when I no longer had the constraints of a curfew. A time of feeling invincible. A time of great promise. A time with wonderful friends, who together can do anything, and we are going to do it tonight. A time filled with youthful exuberance when we would not let anything come between us and our goals. A time we felt invincible. A time we told lies and made memories.

I remember all the nights with Randy Meredith, all the places we went, the people we met; all the fun we had. We would buy a 1.75-liter bottle of Jack (back when it was 90-proof) and we would drink it all on Friday and Saturday nights. Nights we spent at Rodeo (Holiday Inn behind University Mall), closing it down and going to Waffle House (Double Double platter) before going back to his momma’s house. We would inevitably wake her because our rooms were directly above hers. Do you remember trying to drive from Ft. Pickens back to Gulf Breeze on the beach with Mimi and getting my F150 4x4 stuck? Do you remember the many nights with Robin the DJ at WXBM playing the songs from Byrd's (Maples) "Do Not Play" stack? I still cannot believe she opened the door at midnight to two guys she had only talked to on the phone.

I remember all the nights in Palm Springs, CA while stationed at 29 Palms MCAGCC, CA. On my first night in Las Vegas, walking from one Casino to the next. Oh yes, I remember Bambi. She had her own burlesque show and taught me the tease was more important than the strip. I remember the cold sleepless nights at Amphibious Reconnaissance School (think Ranger school on steroids and you spend the entire time wet). I just wanted to make it through until morning. Then I can eat some chow. Then hang on until lunch. When I finished the course, I was invincible.

I remember all the piano and jazz bars in Chicago. Such wonderful music, great drinks, and fun people. Never wanting the night to end. Her voice, her incredible voice. She was a transplant from The Big Easy to her new home in The Windy City. She was a “redbone” girl with a mixed heritage of Black, Native American, and French. She sang with an emotion in her voice that left no doubt she had experienced all she sang about.

I remember all the past girlfriends and why it did not work out for us. The possibility of what could have been. I remember kissing you for our last goodbye as the Sun rose over the Atlantic and walking alone on an empty beach as the last of the Sun’s rays filled the western sky, setting over the Pacific. I remember the feelings of falling in love; when I could not wait to hear her voice on the telephone. I remember the scent of her hair as she sat beside me in my truck. I remember seeing her for the first time and having to think to breathe. I remember riding horses beside the creek. I remember picnics and the sundress she wore, and the sandals she so easily kicked off.

Donna and Author. JUN 1982

I remember my first time at Walt Disney World and riding Space Mountain for the first time with Kim Watson. I remember my trip to Disneyland—I went alone because no other Marine wanted to go. I remember my nights at Hotel del Coronado. I remember the first time I “jumped” from an aircraft and the first time I met a Gold Star Wife.

Normally, my memories of yesteryear are triggered by hearing a song of the time around the accompanying memory. Songs like “Hot Blooded”—always think of Kerrie Shaw dancing with me, “Key Largo”—I wanted a love affair like "Bogie and Bacall", “Working on our 'Night Moves'” with so many beautiful girls, the songs of Kansas, Boston, and Lynyrd Skynyrd; the list is endless. However, this song—this contemporary song—turns the calendar back decades. I do not know if it does the same to you, but you know what I am referring to. The songs that evoke a tangible emotion connecting us with our past.

For me, this song evokes great memories. We all have those moments in our past. The times we spent with great friends. Times full of youthful indiscretions. Times when we had our entire lives ahead of us. Times when we did not worry about tomorrow; “now” was far more important. Times of throwing responsibility aside and living in the moment. The times we felt invincible. The times we just enjoyed telling lives and making memories

As we get older, the distance between the “now” and the times of the memories grows. It is sometimes hard to accept that we might never be able to capture the magic of those moments. This makes the memory sweeter. Please do not misunderstand. I am not suggesting at our age we should roll over and die—we have a lot of living left in us. A lot of memories left to make. But the times of our youth are behind us. We cannot go back. You do not need all the “periods of instruction” from the government teaching about memories. I am glad I received the training; it helps me at times when I want to recall my past. Some of my memories are only important to me and those I was with at the time. With songs like this, I simply close my eyes and relive some of my happiest and even saddest moments.

With my current health, I cannot do what I used to do. I realize each year my pain level increases and my mobility decreases. Yet, I want more memories. I want to live like there is no tomorrow. I want to be with my friends. I want to go out and do crazy things. I want to stay out all night. I want to feel invincible. I want to tell lies and make memories.  I want you to join me. I want to live as if Tonight, We Are Young.

"Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone." - John Cougar