me in 1983

Amy Rigby nails my middle-aged, angst-ridden soul today. If you’re anywhere near her age or mine, something might resonate to you (buy her album here). Everything she says pretty much is me, except I did not pursue playing music in any way. Also, I fell in love the first time a little later in the decade. But yep. Photo booths. No job. Thrift clothes. Even pushing large fake animals down the street.

Summertime in ’83
The year that we made history
But didn’t have the energy
To tell a soul ‘cept you and you and me

Selling off Fiesta plates
Ate loaves of bread but gained no weight
From pecan waffles on the roof
The summer of my wasted youth

Summertime in ’83
The last time I took LSD
But listening to Patsy Cline
And Skeeter David really blew my mind

Played the boombox in the courtyard
Never used a credit card
Still took a trip by Greyhound bus
The summer I believed in us

Pushed plaster cows down city streets
Wore thrift store skirts with little pleats
Smoked pot and sat around all day
Bought a guitar but didn’t try to play

Summertime in ’83
I didn’t need a j-o-b
Cause unemployment kept me free
To study country harmony

And find somebody with a car
Drink cheap beer in the Polish bar
Take photos in the photo booth
The summer of my wasted youth