The Simple Life at Home

So, I'm in my hometown. The place I grew up. Memories run deep here. Everywhere we go, I tell my kids (only to see two sets of rolling eyes), "That's where we used to stop for ice cream on the way home from school." Or, "This is where I used to hang out with my friend, Nancy." Little snippets of my life.

But there is one place that defined my life here in Tucson more than any other. The skating rink.

Yes, a true child of the 80's, I spent much of my teenager-hood at the skate rink. Every Monday, Friday and Saturday for several years in a row. This is where I met my first "love." Where I first had my heart broken. The drama?...well, let's just say that a soap opera had nothin' on Skate Country.

And I returned triumphantly Sunday night. Now, I had along my mother, my two children and my two oldest nieces. So I wasn't exactly Ms. Thang, strutting in with my tight jeans (well, ok, they were tight, but not for the reason you want them to be), my cut-off t-shirt, and my eyes looking out for a cute guy.

No, my eyes were looking out for 5 little heads. Yes, 5. My mother was the biggest worry at all because she decided to skate. She thinks she can do stuff. But she can't. She's always falling off a pogo stick or a trampoline or a ATV. She can't be trusted. But she wanted to skate. Of course, she feel before she hit the 3rd corner or the rink. :::sigh::: This was not doing much for my image.

But there it was. The counter where I stood and flirted with boys. The snack bar that was the hub of all group activity. The benches that were the hub of all, ahem, couple activity. The floor where I skated away all my teenage angst. It was like coming home.

It had been over 20 years since I skated on that floor. 20 years since I glided around the rink, thinking about all that had gone on there. Oh, I've skated other places. But there's no place like the first place.

Sadly, most of my memories from Skate Country are of boys and my various relationships with them and of girls and how they impact my relationships with the boys. Lots of my thoughts Sunday night were of how wasted that time was.

But then they played some of my 80's music. And I was magically transported back to my youth. I felt free and young again. Cool, as I made the turns with crossovers, rather than just stumbling through and as I swerved in and out through the people around me. YES, I AM STILL MS. THANG!

And then one of my kids, nieces, or mom banged into me and asked me for money.

Oh, and on a side note, Daniel was in my mom's room yesterday, looking at a picture of my dad from his service days. He asked who it was and my mom told him it was Papa. When Daniel didn't believe her, she reminded him that Papa was only 20 years old in that picture. Daniel was quiet for a moment and then said, "Well, a lot can sure happen in 40 years!" LOL!!!!! Yep, bud, it sure can!