Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Both Sides Now

New hat for this summer's lot parties?
I sleep hot.

Sounds rather provocative doesn't it?

It adds to my insomnia.

I wake early - sometimes I can talk myself into falling back asleep. But I know that there is something very seductive about the early morning. Especially in the summer.

From both sides of it.

When I was dating my Wasband I was in my early 20s. We had a huge group of friends and most every Thursday evening, especially in the summer, after we had gotten off from work at 12:30 a.m., we'd run over to the local pub, slam down a couple of cocktails, then meet in the parking lot to figure out what we were going to do next.

We were young, had been cooped up for hours indoors, and had some steam that needed letting out.

So we'd head to a spot either by the airport or down by the river. Both places had great potential. Lot parties we would call these. Impromptu. Beer fueled. Music ruled. Lots of music. Loud music.

Many times it was my classic Mustang with the Jensen speakers I would pull out of my back seat and place on the roof of my car that would provide our music.

We'd gather in groups, laughing, talking, singing, dancing. Sometimes we'd have a fire. Sometimes we'd have a dance floor. Just depended.

Someone always had a cooler or two of beer in their trunk. A few more enterprising and planfull people (girls!) would have brought a bottle, ice, and some mix.

I'm a great singer/dancer. I am! My hugest delight is that our generation was not a YouTube generation and there is no video evidence of just how great I REALLY am. Because we all know the answer to that one. Some things need to stay in our memories. Not messed up with the reality of what really was.

So I'd sing and dance my way through the evening. Annoying everyone around me. Luckily many of those around me loved me and thought me charming. Maybe I was charming. Yes, sometimes I was charming.

Late nights soon become early morning. Especially here in Minnesota. The sun begins to come up way too early. At least for young uns dancing and drinking until all hours.

I'd always get a bit sad and introspective when the sun would begin to come up. We'd put away our coolers, I'd take down my speakers. The sudden quiet was always both known and unknown. Every time it was different. We both loved it and wanted it to go away.

But there it always was. Every time smiling its new and shiny face on us. What was this day going to bring?

We'd hug and say goodbye to everyone - all those people I loved. We'd go home, some of us together, some of us alone, and sleep the day away.

Now I wake up when the sun is beginning the day. It's just as lovely. I'm just as introspective. I can't resist the early morning allure can I?

It's just as good on this side.


Sandy aka Doris the Great said...

What a lovely memory! And yes, thank goodness Youtube came later!

Anonymous said...

Used to be a great dancer too, or so I was told. Those days are long gone for me, but the memories of them are still strong.

T said...

Love reading blog posts of old memories.

Your title reminded me of the Joni Mitchell song ... remember that one?

Fun! I can both see AND hear it, the melodies of those late-night-early-morning music/dance lot parties with friends.

Lovin your new summer lot-party hat! Classy.

Ms. A said...

That's the time I'm usually (almost always) headed to bed. Somewhere between 4 and 5am. One of the VERY FEW things that hasn't changed as I've gotten old, is my internal clock. It still wants to be awake all night and sleep during the day.

silvergirl said...

i think it is safe to say that i have never ever been a morning person and i don't think i ever will be, even looking strait ahead at 50. Just not in the cards lol

So. Cal. Gal said...

I woke up at 7:30 this morning. I was NOT happy. Mostly because I didn't fall asleep til 3:30.

One of my favorite memories is flying into MN, dropping the luggage off, and going directly to the muni bar because it was my birthday. I pinched a home team baseball player on his backside (I can't resist a dare) and he bought me a drink.

Then I had to pinch all the other guys because "it's only fair" but I refused the drink offers. I didn't want to get THAT "friendly' while bombed out of my skull.

Sarah said...

Loved this! I know just what you mean about those late night-turned early morning outings. It was always startling to see the sun coming up and hear the birds chirping. When it was happening, it felt like it would go on forever, and when the sun came out I never wanted to admit the night was truly over.

Although I'm not often up earlier than 7am, the few times I am I love sitting out on that porch and feeling cucooned in the warm, green summer light.

deb-oh-rah said...

Those lot parties *were* fun and we could stay out til the morning sun -- if the cops didn't send us home, which they did a few times. Remember the time they held us to find out if the owner of the land wanted to press charges?

And I also remember that I had bowling league at 11 a.m., which meant I got a couple hours sleep, at bowling we had a beer frame every game, a few hours later had to be back at work. And the weekend started . . . out every night. Somehow we survived.

Ah, the memories. ;-)

Not So Simply Single said...

I sleep hot too. Hormones. Being 53 and living in menopause is a lovely thing. Shoot me now and take me out of my misery.

Olive Cooper said...

Hi Deborah, I am an early morning gal too. It was not always so but now I write, drink my true love{coffee}, and read. I just read your previous post and I am not a fan of FB, other social media, or email. I have the dumbest and cheapest phone ever. I may cave to the enormous societal pressure and get an IPhone for my 50th birthday. I would love to follow you but GFC is not letting me follow anyone right now. Last few months I could not add to my blog roll so I am evidently cursed-it builds character. I have a lot of blogging character. {{{hugs}}} olive

lotta joy said...

Did you have a young woman in the group with her constant companion known as the 'geetar'? We had similar nights at the river banks in Indiana and we never failed to sing a few Janus Joplin songs.