Me (not really, but close) Her (not really, but close again)
When I was in high school, on Friday and Saturday night you cruised “the strip”, which basically meant that you drove from the high school parking lot to the McDonald’s parking lot and back, over and over. You might take a detour past the home of your crush, or go check out the cars at the bowling alley, but mainly you just cruised the strip. Occasionally, excursions would be made out to the fire tower, which reportedly also served as a sort of “lovers’ lane”, but I hadn’t visited it in that capacity. Seriously. I was just a studious (so they all thought, ha!) girl in the band who walked around with a book in my hand all the time.
However, I was lucky because I had a car – nothing fancy or new, mind you, but I loved it. But being a car-owner meant that I was a sitting duck, just waiting for someone to take advantage of my wheels. That happened on more than one occasion, I’m afraid. In the particular set of getting-suckered-again circumstances related to today’s post, my cute majorette friend was “dating” a really cute senior boy.
The only problem was that she wasn’t actually allowed to date yet. So I would pick her up in my car, we’d meet the “boyfriend” at the high school parking lot, then we would get into his Camaro (naturally), and cruise the strip. I would sit in the backseat, silently, the classic “third wheel”, having my face blasted off by his killer speakers, while they held hands and displayed their cuteness to the passers-by.
So one night it comes to pass that cute senior boy puts UFO on the eight track. This causes cute majorette to say, “Eeewww! What’s that? Put [insert chick-friendly music here] on!” Cute senior jokingly says something like, “I’ll bet Marie likes it, don’t you, Marie?” at which point I speak the only full sentence I recall ever saying from my designated spot in the backseat, “Yeah, I love UFO”. This doesn’t sit too well with cute majorette, and she responds with, “What does Marie know? She digs gross boy music!” I say nothing in my defense, because she’s right, except for the “gross” part, and the moment passes.
The following weekend rolls around, and cute majorette and I are again cruising with cute senior in the Camaro, with me in my usual spot in the backseat, and her proudly riding shotgun again. But things are different this time. Cute senior is not holding cute majorette’s hand and he’s not looking longingly into her eyes at the stop sign. No, cute senior boy is looking distractedly in the rear view mirror. At me. I sit there miserably, thinking that he’s scheming on a way to ditch me and head out to the fire tower, and I’ve been warned by cute majorette to never let that happen, so I don’t know what to do. And he plays UFO all night, in rotation, with heavy repeats on “Love to Love”.
He never makes a move to ditch me, and I still don’t have a clue what’s going on until we get back to the high school. The angry but still cute majorette slams out of the car and stomps off to join the other teenaged denizens of the parking lot. I get out of the car myself, and with “Love to Love” blaring in the background, cute senior reaches through the window, gently grabs my arm and says, with all the burning passion that a cute senior heart can muster, “I’ve been playing this song over and over and thinking about you all week, Marie; I can’t stop”.
I, being utterly shocked, and having had very little one-on-one interaction with boys other than my fellow geeks in the band and the Holmes boys next door, could barely get my mouth to utter an awkward, dreadfully inadequate, “thank you so much; that’s so sweet” before running precariously off to my car in my platform shoes. And that was that.
Looking back now, I realize it probably seemed to him like a brush-off, but nothing could have been further from the truth. I was beyond flattered, but I was just too young, immature, and inexperienced to know how to respond to a sentiment like that from a boy, and it completely freaked me out.
Nothing else ever came of it, except that I could feel his eyes boring through my gigantic band hat whilst I was waiting to go on field during halftime at football games. We never spoke another word to each other. I actually hoped he would call me, but he never did – I guess maybe he thought I wasn’t interested since I had responded so badly to his heartfelt revelation. And I couldn’t (and wouldn’t) call him – that was not done at the time (in fact, I kept to that principle throughout my entire dating career).
But I spent a lot of time wondering what had caused him to switch his fancy from the cute majorette to me that night. Was it because I liked his music? Was that enough to transform me in his mind from a third-wheel nuisance to a desirable female? I studied the words to “Love to Love” in-depth. Was it the “misty green and blue” thing? I do have greenish-blue eyes. I thought maybe that was why he thought about me when he listened to it. But most of the lyrics didn’t seem to fit our little situation. What the heck? Really, I was just clueless. Of course, I realize now – he was young, it was a romantic song, he associated it with a girl he knew, and that’s all it took – it really didn’t matter what the exact lyrics were.
I think what we can take from this story, yet again, is that music is so very powerful – in many ways, especially in youth, it can define who we are and what we are drawn to, going so far as to play a large role in romance and physical attraction – in igniting eros, shall we say. Come to think of it, it plays quite a role in phileo too.
Anyway, what this small incident did for my self-confidence is immeasurable. A boy, a cute senior boy, had thought about me when he listened to a beautiful love song. I had hope for the future. I knew I would not be relegated to the backseat as a third wheel forever. I would have my turn to ride shotgun.
And that, my brothers and sisters in rock, is why I’ve chosen this beautiful video of UFO’s magnificent “Love to Love” for today’s post, the third in a series featuring fellow blogger MetalGuruMessiah’s amazing video art.
Oh, and by the way… long live Michael Schenker, guitar god extraordinaire! And yes, I do still dig boy music, in case you are wondering. 😉
Misty green and blue – love to love to love you…
Comments? Crazy About UFO?
Want to analyze Cute Senior’s behavior? Or mine?