Daily Jam - Pink Girl with the Blues

Every May, I find myself jotting down a list of things to do during the summer: trips, activities, adventures, fun stuff. And every year I fail miserably, generally only doing a handful of things on my “No Bummer Summer” crusade. But that’s okay. Things aren’t the way they used to be. I have responsibilities now, a job and children, and I certainly can’t spend my late summer evenings getting hammered or hazy like I used to. The alarm just goes off too early every morning. But in my more energetic moments, or in the blissful fog of nostalgia, I still miss those summers.

Yeah, this is a flashback essay.

In the summer of 1998, I was back in Midland at my parents’ house following a fairly lackluster freshman year of college, educationally speaking at least. It turned out that newfound freedom combined with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol was not a good recipe for my grade point average, so I was back home, working a warehouse job for a petroleum company, taking summer classes at the local junior college, saving money, and working my way back into my mother’s good graces. I was also nursing a broken heart…with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol.

But broken hearts and miffed mothers aside, that was one of my best summers ever. My free time was filled with friends (also home/trapped for the summer) and parties and music, music, music. I’d end up at used CD stores once or twice a week scoring all manner of wonderful noise, discovering new tunes as well as padding back catalogs. Booze was plentiful and endless, though I don’t remember how as none of us was 21 yet. And nights were spent chugging beers at house parties, smoking cigarettes in backyards, and hanging out in dirty pool halls. It was wonderful. The dozen of us that were home that summer bonded into a whole and loving unit, a kind of which I doubt I’ll ever experience again, forever in my heart.

And one weekend, my buddy and I drove to Dallas to catch Curve and The Dandy Warhols perform at some hot and humid club downtown. The show was good, but uneventful, the rest of that weekend spent with my soon-to-be college roommate bumming around the greater Dallas/Fort Worth area, getting myself evened out. I remember the road trips, the diners and cafes, playing FIFA ’98 on the Playstation, and again the music, music, music. Curve was a big part of that summer’s soundtrack, and their ’96 single “Pink Girl with the Blues,” a pre-party staple to fire us all up.

There’s really not too much I miss about being a teenager (bone thin Tommy!), but that summer of 1998 has since become the standard by which I judge all other summers. May this next one prove to be as lovely.

Listen below, our Daily Jam.