Steve Miller and Slurpees

Most nights, I get cravings. 

Part of it is me trying to eat better, knowing that there are things that I can't or shouldn't have anymore, so automatically, I want that thing.  RIGHT NOW. (read my post about now vs later for more insight into that.)

Sometimes, though, it will be an association thing.  I will cut the grass or garden in the hot sun, and automatically want a beer afterwards.  I will smell someone BBQing and want ribs.  Stuff like that.  Those associations are fun and I like giving into them.

The other night, I wanted a Slurpee. 

I normally drink diet pop.  Diet Pepsi is my favourite.  But when it comes to Slurpees, I like Coke.  The real stuff, frozen and packed with ice.  I heart them so much.  I try not to have them very often, because my stomach usually starts to hurt within 5 minutes of starting and I get all jacked up on caffeine and sugar, so sleep isn't really an option for a couple of hours. 

But oh, the joy.  It is cold and icy and wonderful in a cup.  And it brings back so many memories.

As I drove to our closest 7-11 to get my fix, I realized I was driving with my windows up.  That is unusal for me.  As soon as it is nice in the spring, I roll the windows down, so I can smell the breeze, feel the warmth of the sun and drink it all in. It is one of my favourite things in the world.  I usually get a driver's tan- from the elbow down, on one arm, as it hangs out my window.

So, I got my Slurpee, and headed back home.  Window is down.  Radio on.  Steve Miller came on the radio.  Then Bad Company.  And like a slice of sunshine, like a warm summer breeze, the memories came back in.

I remember driving with my friends when I was 17 years old.  I remember what it felt like to have a cold pop between your knees, your shoulders burning comfortably with the sunburn you got earlier in the day.  I remember the feel of your hair, curly and long and messy, blowing like crazy in the wind coming through the window.  I remember knowing that the boy in the backseat is watching you laugh, is holding his hand, so close to yours, but still not touching.  I remember those butterflies, when you would smile. I remember flip flops, and sandy feet.  I remember cutoffs and sweatshirts to stop the chill.  I remember what it felt like to sit on the hot trunk of a car, still holding the heat from the day, as the day turns to night and everything cools off around you.  I remember how the last hour before curfew was always the best.  Things started happening, and good ideas were born.

There was a soundtrack to that time.  I sang along to bands and songs that can raise a lump in my throat today.  I see certain people, from that time, and a song pops into my head.  I see those people the way they looked at 18. 

I miss that time, with all my heart and soul.  When I worry about my bills, and my job and my kids and my health, I remember what it felt like- Summer.  Steve Miller.  Slurpees.  I feel better.  Sad, nostalgic, but better. 

Because I had those times.  I lived them.  I have the memories, so that means they were real.  I appreciated them enough that I have a special place in my mind for them. 

And I will always have Slurpees.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "nostalgic".