As you walk into the building you notice the dancers doing their thing to the music of their youth. Except for a few, most are in step with the beat and all are concentrating hard to perform the next turn or sway of the dance. After a few songs the word spreads that it is time to go inside of the hall and take your seat.
As you settle in, everyone starts waving hello, they want you to see where they are sitting , as if to say my seat is better than yours. The lights start to go dim and all are swept up in the anticipation that the show is about to begin.
When the stage lights come on the band starts to play. You recognize the music of the famous DJ, that you grew up listening to. Out on the stage he comes, very dapper in his Flyers jacket, and immediately he transforms the crowd into teenagers. He calls out their names and starts telling stories about the music and groups you are about to hear. Everyone is smiling and feeling good. For the next three hours you are taken back to the streets where you grew up. You can visualize the old neighborhood, and the boyfriends and girlfriends that you knew such a long time ago. Every song brings back some kind of memory, whether it was happy or sad. You remember where you were and what you were doing when the song first came out over that transistor radio. He is so right when he tells you that the music will always live on. It is part of us all. Think of all the times you are driving around in your car or are working in the house, or just relaxing in the yard. There is always a song that comes on and takes you back to a more simpler and less stressful time of your life. Songs that fill us with memories of loves and lovers lost. We all have one song that reminds us of that one person who was a part of our life.
When the show was over and everyone starts to file out of the hall, you can still see the teenager in their eyes. For the rest of the night, they forget their troubles and remember how it used to be.
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Albert, we have never met but we share the same last name. Your stories are so similar to the stories we tell in my family. Everything from Easter bread and house blessings to reading obituaries. We must be related somewhere. Thanks for the memories!
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