This morning as I was preparing for another day at the bird store, Bryan Adams sang to me about the summer of ’69. Apparently, those were the best days of his life. Really, Bryan?
For some reason, this song, on this morning, sent my poor little sleepy brain into overdrive. Let’s see…in the summer of ’69 I was 8 years old. My siblings and I spent the summer as we always did…outside with the rest of the neighborhood kids. We explored the woods, built forts, played with Barbie dolls, and acted out numerous and strange make believe scenarios. We went inside only for dinner, and afterward met up for several rounds of hide-and-seek, which lasted well into the night. Fun, yes…but the best days of my life? No.
My brain took another path, and I realized in the summer of ’69 my husband was 19 years old. This would make him closer in age to Bryan, and they probably had more in common. Somewhere in that time frame my husband backpacked through Europe with his friend, Ivan. I wonder if, looking back now, my husband considers those the best days of his life. I hope not.
Interestingly, this song came out in 1984…the year we were married. So, it is possible that at that time, both my husband and Bryan did consider the summer of ’69 the best days of their lives. But life brings us many gifts, and the summer of ’69 was a long time ago.
It is my sincere hope that things have gotten better for Bryan.
I’m weird at 7:00 a.m.