I Hear a Memory

Today’s post was sent to me through some act of fate. As I was driving to school today, the cheesy morning radio show I was listening to announced celebrity birthdays and among them was The Karate Kid himself, Ralph Macchio. Shortly after that I grew weary of the same old talk show shtick and began channeling surfing. A few scans down that proverbial dial I caught Bananarama’s hit ditty, Cruel Summer, which happened to be featured in TKK. Fate had sent me an idea.




Upon hearing the first few musical notes my mind wandered back to the summer of 84, which would have been the summer between 7th and 8th grade for me. I spent that summer hanging out at Lake Worth beach with my childhood best friend Danny, each of us trying to accumulate as many girls’ phone numbers as we could. That got me thinking about other songs from movies of that era, songs like Danger Zone from Top Gun and Glory of Love from Karate Kid Part II. Both of those movies came out in the summer of 86, when I was in New York. That was a great summer vacation. I met some great friends that summer: friends who I would keep in touch with for years. I even had my first true summer fling in the summer of 86, Lisa was her name and she was the first girl I ever French kissed.



My point is that scientists would tell you that scent is the sense that is most closely tied to memories. I beg to differ. Nothing takes me back in time like music. When I get a whiff of a familiar scent it often grabs my attention but rarely do I recall exactly where I know the scent from. A familiar song, on the other hand, takes me directly to a place or moment in time, especially when I can associate that song with something visual, like a movie.
One of the songs I have as a ring tone on my phone is Moving in Stereo by The Cars. Any guys reading this post are probably cracking a devilish smile on their faces right now. The bass line for that song immediately brings to mind the famous Phoebe Cates bikini scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Yummy. I remember being in 6th grade when that movie came out. Every guy, including me, was wearing checkerboard Vans and saying, “Hey bud, let’s party!”



Music, not smell, is the gas that fuels my time machine as it drives down memory lane. How far I go depends on the CD I choose to slide into the player. So happy birthday Ralph Macchio! Thanks for guiding today’s tour through the summer of 84. You’re the best!