Artist: Five Iron Frenzy
Album: Upbeats and Beatdowns
Growing up in suburban South Jersey didn’t really provide us with too many options when trying to waste a night. There were nights of underage consumption of adult beverages, but that was never really my scene, and by the time I was in college and coming home to visit, I was totally over that, so I found other things to do.
For a long time, one of those things was to drive aimlessly around with the stereo on full blast. A car full of kids and a tank full of gas (gas was cheap 10 years ago) and nowhere to be. Most nights, though, those trips ended up at the only 24 hour establishment around that wasn’t a diner-the local Wal-Mart. I don’t remember if we usually made a purchase or if we just goofed around, but there was definitely goofing involved. We weren’t mean or disruptive. We didn’t destroy or steal. We just hung about and talked about things until we got bored and decided to head home. It was brighter inside Wal-Mart, and I’m sure that occasionally one of us needed something, so the trips weren’t always for nonsense.
During this period of time, I was hanging out with a group of friends who regularly referred to our group as “the family.” Now, just because I am from Jersey and was part of a group that I called “the family” does not mean that I was ever affiliated with the mob. I’m not Italian. Also, I’m too much of a wuss to “whack” someone. At any rate, we were as close as they come, and we spent a lot of time together when we were all home. Also, we all really liked Five Iron Frenzy.
This is all leading up to a story that will take me about three seconds to tell, but that is still one of my favorite memories from this part of my life (minus the zucchini muffin hat, but that’s a story for another time.) One rainy night, the gang was walking up to the entrance, and we must have been listening to the song “anthem” recently, because one of us starting singing “a nation stands with heart in hand…” and the rest of the group joined right in. We were all band/drama/choir kids, so calling attention to ourselves was no big deal, which meant that in that rainy, nearly deserted parking lot, we could sing just as loudly as we liked.
By the time we were walking through the entrance to the store, we were about to the end of the song, and when we finished, the greeter started clapping and said “that was you guys singing out there? That sounded awesome!” I don’t know how awesome we actually sounded, really, because by the end it had turned from singing to screaming, I think, but we must have caught her attention in some way.
I miss those nights. I am also slowly realizing how many records have memories linked to parking lots.
It's funny how similar some of our memories are... The city/sprawl of the borderline south Philly area is its own kind of emptiness, even if it's filled with buildings. I used to drive about aimlessly as well, even when gas got expensive, and we would all end up waiting in the mall parking lot for someone to get done work, trying to skateboard and blaring brand new or some other band from my shitty car with the great speakers. We would all end up at Dennys or some other all night diner. Different people, different setting, similar feelings. I dunno whether to find comfort in the similarity or just be pissed at how annoying nostalgia is.
ReplyDelete