All of the names in this story have been changed to protect those who don’t know about this blog, and who will probably never read it anyway.
It was the summer of 1984, and I was almost 14 years old. We had gathered at my good friend David’s house for a pool party. The attendees had all graduated from the same private elementary school in Dallas in 1982, so this was a reunion of sorts. My friend’s house had a terrific pool, and I remember helping him there a couple of years prior as he was testing for various Cub Scout swimming and diving badges.
My first girlfriend Kathryn was there, although she was not my girlfriend anymore, just a friend now. It was certainly a little awkward at first, but we all had a good time. Now that I think about it, David’s family must have been doing really well to have the home that they had. I distinctly recall making “suicide” drinks with their soda machine at the wet bar area in the gameroom by the pool. In case you don’t know what that is, it is when you mix EVERY type of soda together (usually the normal favorites like Coke and Sprite, along with some odd choices, like Orange Crush and Hawaiian Punch) and drinking it down. Sometimes it tasted great, other times it was more like swill, if I had to describe it.
At any rate, this post is really supposed to be about the music that we listened to that day, which was almost exclusively Huey Lewis, primarily from the stratospherically popular “Sports” album (it was probably a cassette tape, if memory serves). We also listened to the first tape, too, although it probably doesn’t really warrant mentioning other than the song that I used for the title of this blog. Huey Lewis was the quintessential “good guy” of pop music at the time, and I suppose he’s still a good guy today.
We played a lot of pool (billiards) that day, too, and I remember that Mark, one of my closest friends and the guy who first introduced me to Beatles music, was growing a pretty impressive mustache for a 14-year old. He was super quiet, and I later heard rumors that he was into drugs already. I think he is an artist now, not that it has anything to do with anything. Because of Mark’s influence on my musical tastes, I was the rare nine-year old in 1980 that was actually strongly affected by John Lennon’s assassination. I know that I actually wept when I heard about it.
Back to the fun day. As a thirteen year old boy, there aren’t too many things more exciting than co-ed chicken fights in the swimming pool, and we had plenty of them. One girl in particular, who had never held any interest for me while we were in school together, was suddenly alluring when she was on my shoulders. We will leave it at that. Additionally, I recall doing the “Nestea” plunge a ridiculous number of times. Does anyone else remember that strange commercial?
Although it was a blast, I didn’t really see most of those people ever again. I am still in touch with one of those friends, who lives near Dallas, but the rest of them will probably remain 13 in my mind forever.
So, billiards, swimming, chicken fights, mixed soda drinks, laughing, and one mysterious friend who seemed to have grown up a little faster than the rest of us. Here’s part of the soundtrack from that memorable day (enjoy):