Takes Me Back

There are songs that remind me of a specific time in my life or of a specific person. Songs that really take me back. I mean I could write a script and film a movie about these memories and whoever lived through those moments with me would say “Dang Amanda, that’s right on”. Like my mom would know what I was talking about if I brought up Time in a Bottle or Beat It. She’d have memories of me in one of her old robes twirling around and around, dancing for hours to those songs in the living room of our house in Alaska. And my brother, if I asked him what he thought if I hummed a couple bars of Can’t Touch This or Ice Ice Baby, it would have something to do about the summer before his third grade year in our house in Laredo, they are the same memories I have about any songs by the New Kids on the Block; bulldozers and wheelbarrows full of dirt from getting a pool built in our back yard, sitting in the living room eating avocados with our old baby spoons and watching Hey Dude after school.
Bruce Springsteen’s album Born in the USA reminds me of my dad, more specifically it reminds me of waiting for my dad to get done mowing the yard, or waiting for him to come home from work, or waiting on him to get off the phone; just waiting on my dad in general. Bruce sings Cover Me and I have visions of lying down on the dining room floor on the cool tile and puling legs off of a daddy long leg, because dad is in the back yard cutting down banana trees and mom didn’t want us to hear him swearing at the trees. He sings Glory Days and I am opening and closing the glass door on the stereo over and over again, pushing the door in and out trying to make the door close without the magnet making any noise. Or My Hometown and I’m sitting at the bar in the kitchen swinging my feet, watching mom do the dishes and Levi play with his toy cars, and all of us waiting on dad to walk through the door smelling like oil and gas. Most all of my memories that I have around Bruce Springsteen I’m with anyone but my dad, but they make me think of my dad, I’ll never hear a Springsteen song without thinking of my dad and for that reason I’ll always love Bruce Springsteen.
Perfect Day is me and Erik’s song. So of course it would make me think of my husband but it’s not just because it’s our song that I think of Erik when I hear it, because I don’t think of our wedding day or our engagement or anything so typical as that. I think of the day that Erik came home with a CD and he had me sit in the car with him as he played me this song, by a man whose voice sounded as if evil fairies were rubbing sandpaper of an elephants behind making it stomp on top of a gaggle of geese making them scream and making my ears bleed, but I ignored Lou Reed’s raspiness and I listened to the words that Erik wanted me to hear, and when the song was over his eyes were so bright and he told me “This is our song.” So matter of fact, so decided. He told me this was our song. And that’s probably the most romantic thing he’s ever done.

I think of my mom when I hear Lean On Me. I think of weekends that she would let me spend hours at the library in Lafayette, though I’m sure she had things she wanted to do she always s took me there whenever I wanted to go. I also think of my mom when I hear I Just Called To Say I Love You and I think of her when I hear Don’t Worry Be Happy. Those songs were playing on the radio a lot when we lived in Laredo, and we’d sing along. I think I get my affinity for singing loudly with the windows down from her. Anything by Elvis makes me think of mom and so do church hymns, and Bob Marley, ever since I found out that she’s got one of his songs on her iPod.

Still Remains makes me think of Chad and high school and tiny neighborhood pizza parlors.

Is Your Love Strong Enough makes me think of Lucas and all the medications he had to take just to be able to walk but how he never lost his joy.

I think of Paw Paw when I hear Hey Good Lookin’. I remember him singing to me randomly when we'd bump in the hall, or how he'd want to hold my hand if I were close enough for him to do it, and he'd never leave the house without a kiss. Never.
The song The Bluest Eyes in Texas brings me memories of driving out to dad’s work in Laredo, watching the desert sky speed past with Levi lying on the seat holding my hand.

I love that song.