Middle-Aged

I decided to try my hand at burning a CD for my truck. It went about the same route as everything I attempt to do on my computer: PhotoShop, DVDSlideshows, uploading pictures, you name it--takes some time. Several times, actually. And a few phone calls to The Family TechnoWizard, Bartonville's finest Auxilliary Police Officer, KevlarJimV.

He hates it. I know he does. It's got to be about the biggest pain in the backside. Challenged Me Calling Him.

Anyhow. My first attempt worked out great, if I was playing my freshly downloaded songs on my computer, but when I took my CD to my truck, the player went "Track 1"...and nothing.

I was totally bummed. I was driving to work in Elmwood the next day & wanted to listen to my own private jam-session.

Does anyone under the age of 25 experience a Jam-Session anymore?

Or is that unique to those of you in My Age Group?

So, after several calls and a couple emails to KevlarJimV, I was successful on my burn and had my new CD ready to roll today while running errands.

Having successfully completed most of my tasks for our "BaseBallParty" tomorrow night, I decided to have a beer in the garage with my husband.

We talked about everything.

And I had another beer.

Just one more.

The next thing I knew, I jumped up, ran to my TrailBlazer and hollered, "Come listen to what I did!"

I jumped behind the wheel, turned the key to "accessory", rolled down my window and began blaring Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music White Boy"...and then quickly flipped to the next song for my husband, who slid into the passenger's seat...both of us, beer in hand.

No DUIs for us tonight. No, Officer KevlarJimV, we ain't leavin' our drive...

And I pretty much sang the next song, word-for-word, "Musta Got Lost" by J. Geils Band.

"This was my very first concert!" I hollered over the stereo..telling him who I went to see J. Geils with...

And I'm not sure where, but at some point, beer in hand, jamming on my stereo out in God's country with nothing but stars above me, I began to feel about 17 again...cute guy in the passenger seat...and he could pass for 19...so's long as he leaves his hat on.

According to Van Morrison, you can do that.

You Can Leave Your Hat On...

When the next song I burned turned over...to be Black Sabbath's "War Pigs".

And then I really did feel 17 again...both of us singing along...well, yelling along. I mean, I really wasn't thru my 2nd beer--and at this point, it's all I really need to get me by...with the windows down and no smoke rolling out...

After belting along with Ozzy (it is the unedited, live version and we cackled thru the whole thing, when we weren't singing) and discussing the children's reaction to "War Pigs" we moved onto something from this decade...

"Rock Star" by Nickelback.

Halfway through me singing at the top of my lungs to the steering wheel, no less, my husband now reclined in the passenger's seat, my youngest pops out the garage door...

Poof.

Gone.

No longer 17.

No longer parking with a hot jock from high school jamming to Ozzy, drinking beers...

Nope, I'm a Mom.

I'm pretty much showing my age.

We motioned for Dustin to come to the truck, whereupon his eyes got big as saucers, he spoke not a word and ran in the other direction.

Were we scary?

Two minutes later, Dillon tripped out the back door...and he was equally unimpressed with us.

"Are you going to break this out at the BaseBall Party tomorrow night?" Birdy asks.

"On what? We don't have a CD player in the garage, what do you want me to do, open all the doors on the TBlazer and have everyone gather around?...like we did back in school???"

Then, I had to piddle and that was the end of our trip back in time...

But, it was fun.

Even if we are middle-aged.

I don't feel middle-aged.

I don't.

In my mind, I still feel about 17.

My husband? He IS still 17...always has...always will be...