I Don't Care if the Sun Don't Shine by Patti Page

2 girls, driving down Highway 80 after a day playing hooky on the slopes.  This is one of the very few positive memories I have of my first adult roommate. She and I had decided to join Mitch C, Jenny T, and Vince J on a spontaneous weekday ski adventure at Northstar.  It was not a terrible drive up there, probably about 3 hours from San Francisco, and not a ton of traffic considering it was reverse commute on a weekday.  We spent the day skiing and boarding, enjoying a midday beer and lunch in the sun at the top of the mountain.  In the pictures we aren't even wearing coats, so I am guessing it was spring skiing.  We probably stopped at the Chevy's in Auburn on the way home, as was the tradition. 

On the way home, Lydia was driving, it was her car after all, and we were really into this song off the Priscilla, Queen of the Desert soundtrack.  We liked it so much that we sang it over and over (and over) at the top of our lungs, improving our harmonies, getting in tune, sounding better every time.  There was gesturing, smiling, laughing.  In fact, when I saw the How I Met Your Mother episode with the Fiero (500 Miles), I thought it was a lot like that.  I remember being very impressed with ourselves by how great we sounded.  It was a fun end to a very fun day. 

Brass Monkey by the Beastie Boys

It was one day after school at the Rec Center.  Trudi L. was teaching Colleen B. a dance routine she had learned in dance class.  For some reason, I wasn't taught the dance.  I remember really wanting to learn, but for some reason I was delegated to pushing play and rewinding over and over so they could practice.  It was totally the song of the moment and I loved it, but I had no idea what on earth they were singing about.  A brass monkey?  What could that be?  Cool dance, cool song, cool by association (I hoped).  The following track, Slow and Low, begins almost immediately after Brass Monkey, almost like the song continues with a part 2, so I always heard the beginning of it, but we never listened to it.

At the time, my mom was living with her cousin Joan.  Joan was dating Reuben who had 2 teenage sons.  They were just about the coolest embodiment of what you would picture today when you picture a teenage boy in the late 80s.  Pegged pant leg acid washed jeans?  Check!  Neon?  Check!  Awesome hair?  Check!  The older son had this super cool, long on top, flip kind of thing going on and the younger had a perfect flat top.  Name brand high tops?  Check!  I am sure they thought I was totally annoying, but I definitely wanted to share (read: show off) that I listened to the Beastie Boys and of course, they did, too.  When I said that I had never heard Slow and Low, they played it for me.  They also played Time to Get Ill which they liked and I remember when I first heard the Mr Ed sample in the middle of the song.  That put me over the top.  I couldn't think of a more clever, creative thing for a band to do. I agreed with them that it was a great song.

For the record, years later...an embarrassing number of years later...I did finally figure out that Brass Monkey is a cocktail.  

Rodeo by Garth Brooks

Even though I lived in Turlock for 7+ years, country music never really grew on me.  I tried from time to time, but it never really took.  It was too twangy, too whiny, too cowboy.  Ok, too Turlock.  I was in 4H, but I didn't raise livestock or animals of any sort.  I was in Leadership, the Newsletter, Cooking, Mini Gardens, and Music.  During awards season, everyone else was wearing white Wranglers and Roper boots....and I was in white slacks and sandals.  Kind of dorky to tell the truth.

In high school, I started to notice that I actually lived in a "cow town" because a significant percentage of the kids at school wore boots and wranglers and even cowboy hats to school.  One of my best friends sophomore year, Maline W (fondly known as Beany) was a real cowgirl.  She lived on a farm and she raised horses.  She wore the gear, walked the walk, talked the talk.  Her favorite thing to do on the weekends was hang out at the Auction.  To be clear, we're talking about a Livestock Auction.  Not a black tie, cocktails, fancy paddles thing.  A smelly, dirty, outdoor auction of pigs and sheep and cows.  And lots and lots of cowboys, which was the real reason she liked going.  I think I went with her all of ONCE and once was enough for me. 

During this time, I was giving country another go because Garth Brooks was all the rage.  I really liked him, just like everyone else did.  He sang about country stuff and he was twangy, but man, was he popular.  Whether he likes it or not, he was basically mainstream, appealing to the masses.  Country music for people who don't like country.  Everyone in school knew the words to Friends in Low Places and Rodeo.  Rodeo reminds me of trying out the country thing for a while and when going to back to Turlock used to be more of a culture shock after being the Bay Area, I'd play it in the car to get in the mood.

Smack My Bitch Up by Prodigy

A bus full of less than sober Cal Bandsmen are heading down I5 in the fall of 1998.  We were on our way to the Cal - U$C game in Los Angeles and it was a memory making kind of trip.  The Cal Band Basses, for this was the Basses bus, had outdone themselves.  As we boarded the bus early in the morning, dressed in our finest Hawaiian shirts, we all got lei'd.  I think there were even boarding passes. The bus was decorated and our spirits were high.  I had a 2 liter bottle of Calimotxo, the decidedly disgusting (but easy to guzzle, which was likely the reason for its popularity) combination of red wine and Coca Cola that I had grown to love during my year in Spain.  Everyone had their preferred libation or snack food and needless to say, we were all sound asleep by Bakersfield.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves.  The trip was a moving party, everyone up and dancing in the aisles, talking, laughing.  Of course my very best friends from the band were also on this bus (there were 4 buses that traveled to LA: the Study Bus, 2 "normal" busses, and the Basses bus). At one point, Jon P. props up the boombox and out comes the sound of something I had never heard before.  I had missed out on a year of American pop culture, but during that time, Prodigy's Fat of the Land had seemingly become somewhat of an anthem in the Band, at least among the Basses (Diesel Power!).  In fact, it turned out I was familiar with some of the songs, ahead of the curve even, as some of them were popular in Europe over a year prior to this trip and I had heard them there. However, Smack My Bitch Up was not one of those songs.  As soon as the opening beat kicked in, I was already hooked.  Then Kat R started singing along,  I saw Jon P bobbing his head to the beat.  What a ride. There were jokes, stories, traditions, legends, most of which I no longer remember.  What I do remember is having a blast, relishing my last LA trip as a Cal Bandsman.

Killing in the Name of by Rage Against the Machine

14 teenagers, no chaperones, a week in France on a ski vacation.  What could go wrong? 

Val Thorens, nestled in the breathtaking French Alps

Such a thing would have been unthinkable in the US, but in Germany (some) teenagers seem to be given a bit more freedom.  I was super excited about this opportunity, even though my boyfriend didn't have the kind of parents who allowed such a thing.  It was a long, overnight bus ride through Switzerland and France, into the Alps, to the ski village of Val Thorens.  We passed through Albertville where the Winter Olympics had recently been held.  It was so beautiful and looked much different than Lake Tahoe as it is located above the tree line, in fact it is the highest ski resort in Europe.  We stayed in a large hotel, rather than a cozy cabin.  I was in a room with Manuela B and Sabine D and I was so excited about the bonding experience I was sure to have with them.  The skiing was tough for me because most of my classmates had been skiing for their entire lives, whereas I had really only started skiing during my freshman year in high school (2 years experience).  Furthermore, my experience thusfar was at Badger Pass and Pinecrest so I was literally going from the bunny slope to an expert slope - yikes!  Luckily, Thilo B. skiied at about my level so we spent a lot of time together, skiing and improving greatly that week.

After a long day of skiing, the evenings got a little nutty.  Lots of drinking, lots of obnoxious behavior.  The song of the moment was Killing in the Name of and it is a very angry song, but even if you are not angry, there was something really fun about being 16, standing on the balcony of the room with a bunch of German guys, and screaming, literally screaming along with the music... Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!  This is an actual song lyric that gets repeated like 15 times in a row.  Fun stuff!  Not at all obnoxious!  I remember feeling the slightest bit embarrassed, but also that we were teenagers being teenagers - isn't that what it's all about?

(Theme from ) the Monkees by The Monkees

It was just after 5pm and Catherine and I were anxiously waiting for our Dad to pick us up from school.  There was an after school daycare in the cafeteria at Twain Harte Elementary and I generally had a great time there.  There were friends to play with, books to read, stuff to do, but as 5pm rolled around, I was anxious to get out of there so we could get home in time to watch Double Dare.  Thinking about it now, this means my Dad had to leave work before 5pm to pick us up in time.  Or maybe he used to pick us up closer to 5:30pm, but he still would have to leave just at or before 5pm to make it in time.  There were no byways or even traffic lights back then so I am sure it took some time to get to us.  In any case, once he arrived, he had to sign us out and for some reason, he encouraged me to copy his signature and would let me sign his name (while he was standing there).  I was only in 4th grade, but the level of trust he had in me never changed, all throughout high school.  I admit, I was a bit of a goody-goody.

Back to the show.  If we were early, we could catch the end of You Can't Do That on Television.  I didn't really like this show.  It was kind of gross and the jokes were often over my head, but we'd watch it all the same.  Double Dare was this trivia/obstacle course show.  It was a big deal amongst everyone my age.  We all hoped to someday be on the show and we were sure we could handle the physical challenges and obstacle courses.  It was totally the highlight of our evening.  Immediately after Double Dare was The Monkees.  The theme song would start up.... "here we come....walking down the street...." and then these 4 goofy looking guys with accents were on doing who knows what, but I mainly thought it was about the worst, boring show you can imagine.  Kind of clever, that, as it was a surefire way to get us to turn off the TV for the night!  At least until The Cosby Show came on...

Hot Child in the City by Nick Gilder

I was in my car with Christine W. and we had just taken the Joaquin Miller Rd exit off of Highway 13.  Hot Child in the City started playing on my mix CD.  She was delighted with this song, as was I.  I can't speak for her, but the first time I had ever heard this song was on an episode of Sex and the City. It was an excellent episode in Season 3, all about acting like a teenager, hanging out on a hot summer day, and smoking pot.  The song practically demands that you chill out, kick back, and relax.  It is excellent. In fact, when we met, Nick said that this song actually reminded him of ME.  This might have been a line, but I was incredibly flattered and also validated because that was kind of what I was going for back then.  Being hot.  And living (near) the city. 

Back to the car ride, we were heading to a party at Scott B's house.  It might have been the first of his annual oyster parties, although I can't say for sure.  This guy is a real character and I met him in Spanish class during my sophomore year at Cal.  He was renting a downstairs unit of a women's house in the Oakland hills.  He had access to the yard and hot tub and amazing view.  He had had a number of interesting jobs, most notably, chef on a private yacht that belonged to the Hiltons.  He was such a relaxing, interesting, welcoming person, with fun, colorful friends, and an afternoon at his house was an afternoon well spent.  I had never eaten oysters, but was game to try them.  He had prepared amazing dipping sauces and I learned how to shuck them.  I tried them both raw and BBQ'd.  We also BBQ'd chocolate chip cookies, which I was surprised to find out is totally possible and also delicious.  There were amazing dips, like roasted eggplant with chopped parsley.  Strawberries with mint and balsamic. Tri Tips and crusty bread.  It was an endless feast, perfect weather, and great conversations.  I went to several oyster parties thereafter and always had a memorable time.