Bryan and I had quite a bit in common. One of our shared loves was for 80s hair bands. While I didn’t don a bandanna and rock out at quite the level Bryan did, I enjoy a good rockin’ concert and if you catch me at a traffic light, I’m liable to be belting out lyrics to Ratt’s Slip of the Lip. If I ever catch myself thinking my memory is going, I only need to turn on hair band music to remind myself that my memory is excellent. Give me a few beginning bars before my memory kicks in and I can sing EVERY. SINGLE. WORD. Enthusiastically.
By the time I came on the scene, Bryan had gone to numerous concerts and had stories to tell about every single one. I was fascinated. It wasn’t long before we were going to concerts ourselves – Guns ‘n Roses in Nashville, Def Leppard/Poison/Tesla in St. Louis, Foo Fighters, Bon Jovi, Stevie Nicks, Journey, Styx. We bought t-shirts and sang along with the band.
Music has the magical ability to create and change moods, bring up long-forgotten, buried memories as well as create new ones. I will never be able to go to another concert with Bryan, but I will still continue to go because music is my happy place. I can fondly remember Bryan unashamedly singing along with Styx, imagine how he looked as he belted out lyrics at frat parties, and create my own beautiful little memories.
Back in the day I owned a cassette of Motley Crüe’s Dr. Feelgood. In honor of our love for good hair bands, I bought it on iTunes. Fair warning – I will be singing it. Loudly. In Memphis traffic.
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