Time traveling back to the 80's

Beautiful spring weather has hit early this year and we could not be happier. The kids are playing outside and I am in a tank top. Oh, and flip flops. YES!!!!! My toes are finally liberated. It’s about time. They were seriously feeling confined, my poor little piggies.

We have a screened in porch that is my own personal heaven. It’s lovely. The air moves through but the bugs stay out. I dare you to beat that.  It’s big enough for a big table (for the adults) and a little kid’s picnic table. The kids eat at their little table and dinner feels even more humane. Making a long story short… it’s awesome.

My husband, the techie geek extraordinaire, set up speakers on the porch and the TV streams music outside.  Last night, he put on an 80’s station. That man must really know that the way to my heart is through my musical memories. It was just what I needed at the end of a long day.

And I tell you this. Whoever said that time travel is impossible was not on our porch for what happened next. Anyone there would have known, beyond a doubt that I traveled back in time, landing smack dab in the middle of my teenage years. As I danced like a zombie to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”, my husband laughed at me and the kids just eyed me curiously. Their eyes were clearly saying, “Mom… whatcha doin’?  You ok? “It didn’t get any better for them when Cindy Lauper started singing “Girls just wanna have fun”. I totally rocked out and they just observed, eternally amused. Song after song, my soul immersed deeper and deeper into the 80’s. When they played Flock of Seagulls, I was a goner.  I implore you. Just go away and leave me in the revere of my retro place. I’ll be back by bedtime. I promise.

It reminded me of an incident, years ago.

 During my high school years, I spent one fabulous summer at a theater camp. We stayed on a college campus and my dorm had one long hallway that cut the building in half. One side of the long hallway had balconies that backed onto the woods, while the other looked out onto a particularly boring view of campus. That particular summer there was an enormous amount of rain, so the woods always wafted a wonderfully damp smell. You know… wet leaves on a chilly night. My room was on the side that faced out onto the campus.  After lights out, I used to sneak out of my room and go across the hall to my friend’s room. We would sit on her balcony and talk all night. You know, the way high school girls talk all night about the most important “nothings” of the world. We would burn incense and listen to Enya. (I didn’t it was Enya at the time. I just loved the music. ). We would blow bubbles and watch them pop, moonlight shimmering on the fragile, mystical balls. By high school standards, some of my most profound and enlightening conversations took place on that balcony. Not that I remember any of the content, mind you. I guess the content wasn’t what was meant to travel with me after all.

A few years later, my freshman year of college, I was sitting in my room studying when I heard it. Enya. My window was open and the music was coming from another open window, not far away. It was like an electric shock. I closed my eyes, and magically, there I was. On that balcony. Surrounded by the combination of incense and damp woods. I could practically touch the bubbles. I was there. Transported to the past by some simple notes.

 It shouldn’t surprise you that I spent the next half hour walking down the hallway, knocking on doors. I was determined to find out who was listening to that song and learn the name of the artist. I was successful and have listened to Enya ever since. It still relaxes me in a way I can’t quite define or justify.

 I guess we all just need a little time travel sometimes.  It’s good for the soul.