A long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving
Oh the days go by so fast
I heard a song on the radio this morning on the way into work that I hadn't heard in a long time. I had forgotten all about it actually, but still remembered the words. Funny how that works. It was a Counting Crows song called "A Long December." Anyone else remember it? I'm pretty sure I had the album, once upon a time. I don't remember what it was called exactly--something about satellites, I think. I remember the cover. I wonder what happened to that CD? I guess it's just a bit of the flotsam that gets lost between your teenage years and something more like adulthood. A lot of stuff disappears around then, I've noticed. It's probably just as well.
I think I went to that concert actually. It was Counting Crows and somebody else. I don't remember who the other band was. I just remember standing next to a friend who was morosely singing along to some song as he nursed his broken heart. A bunch of us had lawn seats at the Shoreline. Was his girlfriend out of town? Or was that the summer they broke up? It's been too long to remember the social politics of so long ago.
Drove up to Hillside Manor sometime after 2 a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her
Did I tell you I went to my 10 year high school reunion last month? It was in a park in the afternoon. I said hi to some folks but mostly spent the afternoon on a picnic table on the outskirts of the group with two friends that I spent most of high school sitting on picnic tables with. At one point, my friend says, "Should we go socialize or something?"
"Why? We never did in high school."
"Good point."
It was a surreal experience. I'm glad I went, I guess. If there's a 20 year gathering, I think I'll skip it. By the time the student body presidents were getting up on top of tables and hooping and hollering about how great it was to see everybody, we made a discreet exit.
And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
The Apple Music Store tells me that the album was called Recovering the Satellites and the year was 1996, the year I graduated high school and began college. That was a long December indeed.
It's a funny thing. Shawn and I were talking the other night about how you never really get to any magical point where you suddenly feel grown up. I remember running to the mirror on the morning of my seventh birthday to see if I looked any older. And now, on the outside, I'm 28, married, and about to be a mom, and on the inside I still don't feel any older or wiser than that seven-year old in pajamas. But I do feel like I've grown some since I was that 18 year old standing on the grass at the Shoreline Amphitheater listening to Counting Crows. I feel worlds away from that girl. How does that work?
And it's one more day up in the canyon
And it's one more night in Hollywood
It's been so long since I've seen the ocean
I guess I should