I am thinking back to the summer of 1977. This long-haired, teenaged rock and roller from South Mississippi was sitting in the back of a 1969 Camaro during a late summer afternoon cruise.
The cruel summer sun was baking our tanned, shirtless bodies as well as the black dashboard in this orange convertible. It’s also worth mentioning that the vinyl seats were severely broiling our thighs in our cut-off jeans.
But even with all the oppressive heat around us, there was nothing under the sun hotter than the deep southern rock and roll blasting from a Pioneer Super Tuner with 4 Bose Coaxle Speakers.
Through our RayBan Aviator Sunglasses, our eight track tapes were a veritable smorgasborg of Southern Rock. . . Allman Brothers Band, Lynryd Skynryd, Charlie Daniels Band, Marshall Tucker Band, The Outlaws and a few (brand new) Outlaw Country acts that were soon to catch fire, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Hank Williams, Jr.
I cannot recall how long this particular cruise lasted. Perhaps it went on for a few songs or even into the next sunrise as they sometimes did. And I can’t recall if we were just riding around or had a particular destination in mind. All I can recall is the everlasting summer breeze remembered fondly in my mind’s eye and the soundtrack of our lives.
And while this particular cruise and so many others still roll strongly in my memory, they exist right alongside the great thoughts and impressions of my youth that are so firmly planted in my consciousness still.
Today, almost 40 years later, those memories are so thick that I have to sometimes clear my head to make them go away so they don’t overtake me and suck me back to a place that is remembered so fondly.
I often embrace those moments of enlightenment as a teenager. It was a time of youth and endless possibilities. We traveled a road with wild, untamed twists and turns that lead to nowhere in particular. The only way we timed ourselves was by the end of the song.
I knew better than most at that point in time that I had forever ahead of me. But that didn’t matter nearly as much as a moment in time with friends and loud music that meant something to us.
It was truly all I needed back in the ‘70’s.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and visit. . . .
