Meat Loaf Memories

It was a tiki bar in south Florida where it happened. Her uncle had built it by hand himself and it looked absolutely beautiful; a piece of Hawaii with a uniquely Floridian touch. And yet that was not his greatest talent. He was a master cook and could grill just about anything to such perfection that you would swear that you had never truly had barbeque anything until this man cooked it. It was Christmas day when she first took me to this oasis deep in Florida’s relative backcountry. We had been dating for several months, but it was one of the first times I had met any of her extended family and naturally she was a bit nervous initially. As the day and evening unfolded she relaxed and I had one of the most wonderful Christmases ever with a great group of people that later would feel like family to me as well.

I would not be writing this if we had stayed together I don’t think. That is the tragedy of reflection; we often don’t do it until some sort of sadness has been overcome to put into focus within a different light the events that to that point been simply part of it all and not warranted a second look. Now she was no longer mine nor I hers. Those people might remember me, but no more Christmases would I share with them. Worse, no longer would I spend Christmases with HER.

Amicable break-ups can be very deceiving when you let circumstances end the relationship instead of letting it end mutually from a deep conviction and understanding that it simply did not work out. That however is another rant for another time. The memory of that Christmas is paired with other outings we took to her uncle’s oasis in south Florida. Together they create a string of memories that are indelibly connected but which do not inhabit the forefront of my mind. In fact rarely am I compelled to look back and think, fondly or not, on those days long gone. Except that is when a particular song comes on…

That is the great wonder, if not proper mystery, to me. How a song can become so powerful in forcing upon us the memories we do not desire to relive. Worse when those memories are sweet. For me the song is part of the memory and I think this gives it even more power over me.

Each time we attended a party with her family at this place I mentioned above it was tradition that Karaoke be part of the entertainment. As you can imagine a lot of hilarity followed as a result. A tradition within this tradition was one song in particular that she sang with her father or uncle. She had been raised as a big fan of classic rock and Meat Loaf was an artist everyone loved. “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” was the song she knew word for word and which she and her family sang enthusiastically. I was amazed the first time I saw it and experienced it that Christmas.

Years later life has moved on, with and without my consent. We are no longer together and I have found someone else that has taken my heart. However I have not been able to escape the flood of memories that inevitably is released every time I happen to hear that song. I know I am not the only one with linked memories refreshed by songs popular and obscure. Every time I hear that song I am taken back to that tiki bar and an image of her with a microphone in hand singing “Do you love me? Will you love me forever? Do you need me? Will you never leave me?” If I close my eyes I can see her too.

This would be well and good if I were single. It would fall right in line with my inadvertent masochistic tendencies. Tendencies which are inherent in most poets I would venture to say. However I find that I am not. And I am happily not. That makes these memories less and less welcome. They are happy if not altogether welcome intrusions into a present I work hard to live in and impediments to a future I am trying to build.

The strange irony of all this is that the more I try to forget, the harder these memories become to dismiss. And also because there is some cosmic comedian behind it all, the more often this song seems to play. So my remedy is no remedy at all. I shall listen to Meat Loaf when and where I please and if these memories intrude then I will tackle them there and then. Perhaps in the preoccupation of what they may mean to our current state we dismiss what they can inform us about the past and ourselves. “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” is to me now and forever a snapshot into a happier time that I will always cherish and keep much like an old photograph, there at the edge of memory.