The Boombox


Dear Listener,

There comes a time in everyone’s life where the past seems better than the present.  You get old, you get tired, you don’t feel like driving twenty minutes to work every single day and you start to think, remember that time when I was seventeen?

No.  You don’t remember that time when you were seventeen.  You don’t remember when your best friend’s mom screamed at you for feeding her son pot out of a hollowed out apple.  You don’t remember how your stomach bulged out of the neon green spandex that you had to buy because Stacy Q. was beyond amazing.  You don’t remember the first time you went to a night club and danced until you accidentally elbowed the shy guy in the eye.

You remember Sublime.  You remember sitting stretched out in the back of your friend’s 1980’s Honda Accord while you dangled your arm out the window.  You remember the rainbow-colored beanie that you could have sworn were the colors of the Jamaican flag.  You remember that guy with the dreads who said you didn’t ever need to shampoo again just as long as you had Bees Wax.  You remember thinking you could keep riding in that car forever.

But thank God, you got out.  You no longer had to stay on your mom’s couch eating pizza Pringles and watching reruns of bad sitcoms.   You made it past abstinence-only education, dodgeball, and pregnant cheerleaders.

Now you just have to change the CD.

It was never Sublime.  It will never have been Sublime.  It’s been over 20 years and you hate pop reggae.


Your Boombox

18 thoughts on “The Boombox

  1. I recently write a post on memories and how music can always in a split second transport you to another time for just a moment or two and you feel all of the emotions with it. My improv music I record is based on those emotions. Your story fit right in with that. Well written. 🙂

  2. Don’t put reggae down
    No doubt in days now gone
    We all did act the clown
    But to look back and frown
    Nay, turn up the volume, let;s hit the town
    Bob Marley, his spirit, still around
    Regrets in life for some abound
    But that reggae beat, can atone
    Like the heart, a life pumping sound
    Enjoy life, my new follower, just found
    My joy of reggae I could not help expound
    My thoughts not meant to put yours down
    Write some more, make magic,
    With your quill, make it your wand.

    Thanks for the follow reciprocated 🙂

  3. haha! 🙂 better this acceptance than stay a permanent teenager with the dreads, beeswax and probably a bald patch in my case! 😉

  4. Well done! Human memory is so… selective and reconstructive. Example: I got one of the early Beatle’s Albums and recalled being astounded how long their hair was. I had a very clear image. (Or, so I thought). When I looked at that album cover 20 years later, I was astounded how SHORT their hair was! What changed were the societal norms about what “long hair” was for a guy. The “clear image” was completely reconstructed not “recalled” like a photo.

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