The year is 1987. I’m living in State College, Pennsylvania, a sophomore at Penn State, sitting in my friend Bernadette’s apartment. That ass. That ass comes on TV. Those boots! The leather! The stubble! The guitar! How can you miss it? How can you not bounce around, shake your own ass and sing along with it—off key—wrong words—and all?

When I was a freshman in college at North Texas University, my dad lost a job he had held for at least 20 years. The only place he could find a job was in Pennsylvania. My mom was originally from Pennsylvania. She loved the Pittsburgh Pirates, the Pittsburgh Steelers, but most especially, Franco Harris. Franco Harris went to Penn State. If I transferred colleges to Pennsylvania, I could possibly go to Juniata, which was a private college that had a really good biology program, or I could go to Penn State. Always the worrier and penny-pincher back then, it’s needless to say, I went to Penn State.

My dad and I got an apartment together at Heritage Oaks, a complex about 5 miles from the Penn State campus nestled in the woods. My college roommate was my father! My dad’s new job required some travel. Plus, he would go home to Texas to see my mom who was stuck there selling the house. That left me alone a lot in my own apartment. I managed to make friends with two gals from up around Erie. Bernadette and Diana. Both were education majors. Diana was quiet and studious, but Bernadette was not. Standing at about 6’3″, Bernadette could not be missed. She was full of life, energy, and most especially trouble. George Michael was one of our favorite diversions that year, besides stalking Penn State football players at the pool.

This was the first song that came on the radio this morning.

The second song was “In Your Eyes,” by Peter Gabriel.

Yeah, yeah…I know everyone knows the scene. John Cusack in “Say Anything” with the boombox over his head. Woudn’t everyone love to hear me talk about this song instead of “Faith?”

click to see the gif until I figure out how to embed //


I couldn’t bring myself to override George. Maybe I never got into that because I never had been in any relationship where anyone would be standing outside there for me. Plus, I just never really dug Peter Gabriel. He’s kind of creepy looking in this video. Don’t you agree?

At any rate, there I was this morning, thinking of all of you and thinking about the songs I was going to share. Thinking of something wise and great to impart to you all.

Bad news: I don’t have it right now. At least not that much. Just the fact that I’m getting up at 5 in the morning, reading my Happiness book, and exercising (elliptical and dog-walking). I’ve felt more inspired and as I get my legs back under me doing all this, including blogging, maybe I will get my thoughts collected and share something amazing.

In the meantime, I’ll just ramble a bit about singing loudly in my car, mostly the wrong words, and definitely off key. Add I will do my best to share it in some sharply witty or snarky post.


One thought on “Faith

  1. Pingback: Piano Man | Little Wing

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