Blasted past, er, I mean, blast from the past

September 1982

The infant in this photo, my nephew, turns TWENTY-NINE on Saturday. Zounds!

I had just spent the summer of 1982 working in the tourist town of Medora, North Dakota, and left from there to get back to Marquette just in time for the start of classes. I mean, I got in on the bus about six hours before my first class, I think. On the bus. The trip took over a day and a half. That included a six-hour layover in Duluth on a Sunday. I walked from the bus station on the south side of Duluth two hours north to a park overlooking Lake Superior, and back, carrying my guitar, and STILL had two hours to kill in the bus station. Nothing was open except a McDonald’s.

My family came up for Labor Day weekend because I hadn’t seen them since May. My sister, who had started the previous year with me at Northern, left so she could have my nephew, the little bugger in this photo who was born in June.

Dave saw this photo and said “You were so skinny!” I had been running for nine months as of this photo, and I had the metabolism of a twenty-year-old. Sigh.

I still maintain that I am not a hippie, and never was. But it looks pretty convincing here. I lost that hat at a Moody Blues concert around 1989, and I still miss it.

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About songdogmi

I'm a longhaired almost-hippie stuck in the inner suburbs of a major rust-belt metropolis who's thoughtful, creative, and kind of geeky. In exchange for a paycheck I run around in a cubicle maze most days. When I escape, I play music, hang out in coffee houses, dink around on the computer, take naps, and think I should be off in the woods somewhere. Every once in a while I get in my car and drive far, far away, though I've always come back so far.
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7 Responses to Blasted past, er, I mean, blast from the past

  1. changeling72 says:

    I was 10 in the December of that year. :o)

  2. maxauburn says:

    Yeah, time flies, and before ya know, it three decades are gone! Just like that!

    But you get a trunk full of memories to keep.

    Sorry you lots the hat – it looked good on you, too.

    • songdogmi says:

      Well, yeah, that’s true. Although the more time goes by, the more the memories get kind of jumbled, I’ve noticed. Maybe I should write more of them out, before they disappear.

      Thanks for the thoughts about the hat. I did like it a lot. The black hat I have now is very cool (well, except when the sun beats down on it), but it would be nice to have both that one and the brown one.

  3. Anonymous says:

    I’m sorry; I don’t think I read that correctly about Andy turning 29. My own nephew and niece are 21 and 19, respectively. And what is this thing called a metabolism that you speak of? I’ve heard of the concept, but if you can refresh my memory…..Fran

    • songdogmi says:

      I know! I was as schocked as you are. Twenty-nine? I began to feel, I think, as my mother does when she realizes she has children who are almost fifty!

      I believe they used to refer to metabolism as “phlogiston.”

  4. Anonymous says:

    Ahh….thank you….F.

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