Stacy and I began dating in the fall of my sophomore year. We met at the community center when she came over and asked me to dance. She was stop-and-stare beautiful, a tall and graceful woman who wore her blond hair in a short bob, had a passion for Pink Floyd, and an easy laugh that made you want to laugh too. We dated until fall of my junior year, had a year’s separation, then briefly got back together a few months before I graduated. I’d already made plans to move to California, and although we corresponded a few times after I left, we never saw each other again.
Stacy’s mother and stepfather also lived in Calvert County. Her mother was a leukemia survivor. Occasionally, my mother would run into one or the other of them. That was how I learned Stacy’s mother eventually died after a cancer relapse, Stacy had married and had a child, and, last I heard (which was years ago), lived somewhere in the Baltimore area. Her child was born after her mother’s death, and I recall thinking it was a shame her mom wouldn’t get a chance to see her grandkid.
One spring Saturday in 1985, Stacy and I drove to Ocean City, which was about 45 minutes from Salisbury, where we attended college. Most of the houses and businesses are closed and the boardwalk is empty. It’s a fine, warm day; we spread a blanket on the beach and enjoy the sun. Our arms touch. The ocean breeze tickles my skin, raising goose bumps. The forlorn and melancholy cry of gulls echoes over the sussuration of the waves. I wiggle, shifting the sand beneath me, getting more comfortable. I smell salt water.
Spring passes into summer, summer into fall, and fall into winter. Make your memories now, my friends….
Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer’s out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
In the first semester of my sophomore year in college, I began dating Vanessa. Over Christmas break, I drove up to visit her in New Jersey (I lived in Maryland). It was about a 5 hour drive. At the time I owned a lime-green ‘69 Mustang coupe. The most significant part if this story? The car had no heat.
I was on my way home after the visit, in line to go through a toll booth on the New Jersey turnpike when this song came on the radio. I was so cold, I mean COLD…. totally miserable, my feet and hands completely numb despite the layers of socks and gloves and mittens. The line inched forward, and this song played, and my hands and feet were ice, and I remember thinking I’m not making this drive again.
After break, Vanessa and I dated another month or so before going our separate ways.
There’s this photograph of my wife, she’s probably nineteen or twenty at the time, early 1980s, well before I met her. She’s sitting on a concrete berm on a beach with her dog, a shepherd mix named Sting (coolest dog ever).
Hey…. Duran Duran called. They want their hair back. Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand….
I first met my wife at the Old Cutler Oyster Company Raw Bar and Grill. The original restaurant blew away in Hurricane Andrew in 1992 (a year after we left for Japan), but they’ve long since opened at a new location.
She was a waitress and I a young Air Force guy stationed at the nearby Homestead Air Force Base (also blown away; it’s an Air National Guard base now, with only the runway open).
The Raw Bar (as we called it) was a popular spot - good food, good prices, plenty of week day specials, and two pool tables. They had live music, a band called the Instamatics that played popular hits as well as some classics. Around 9:00, they’d clear some tables out of the way to make space for a small dance floor and the Instamatics took their place on a little raised stage against the wall. The lead singer’s name was Sarah; she dated a guy named Kenny, whom I played pool with upon occasion. One of the songs Sarah often sang was Love Shack.
When I hear the song, I can see the layout of the Raw Bar clearly and easily recall the friends I hung out with (as well as a jerk named Frank who used to get drunk and try to start fights). I remember always seeing a very attractive blond waitress hurrying about….
Tina was my last girlfriend of high school. I was a senior and she a sophomore. I was pretty smitten, although we only dated for four months before I graduated and left for California. I ended up coming back eight months later, and, although we went out a few times after that, the stars were no longer aligned. Her favorite rock band when we dated was Journey; this song was playing during one of our early make out sessions and it sort of ended up being ‘our song’. When I hear it, I can see her as clearly as though I were looking at a photograph, albeit one that’s 25 years old now…..
