Closets are for hangers, winners use the door

CMHL talked about a great Springsteen song (Rosalita) in Monday's post which I didn't get around to reading until yesterday morning. Then in the afternoon when I was going to pick my daughter up a gymnastics, what song came on the radio? Right - Rosalita! And I caught it at the beginning of the song which is really rare for me since I'm constantly switching the channels trying to find the perfect song. Anyway, I sang really loud and it was great because there was no one in the car to say "Mom, can you puhleeese stop singing?" or "Put on Radio Disney!"

First the song made me think of CMHL. Then it reminded me of high school (yes, I'm that old - this song came out when I was I teenager). When I was either a senior, I went with three of my girlfriends to see Springsteen in concert at the Rosemont Horizon (which is now called something else because, like every other venue, it's named after a company that has nothing whatsoever to do with the purpose of the venue but there it is.)

We were having a great time - singing and dancing, lighting our lighters (not like any of us really smoked but you can't go to a concert without a lighter, can you?) Then, in the middle of the concert, my girlfriend G, the one who drove us to the concert in her father's baby blue Volvo, turns to me and says "Um, I don't have my car keys." Being a bit dense I said "What do you mean you don't have your car keys?" "I mean, I think I might have locked the keys in the car." "No flippin' way!" (Ok, I think I said an actual swear word but you get the drift.) So we spent the rest of the concert searching her purse and the floor around us to no avail.

Sure enough, we get to the car after the concert and see the keys dangling in the ignition. Rosemont was a good hour from home and we were suburban kids - we didn't know from public transportation so even if there was a train (or God forbid, a bus) we could have taken we didn't know about it and would have been terrified at the thought anyway. So we stood there trying to figure out how the hell we'd get home without having to call one of our parents to come pick us up. And this was in the day before cell phones so I'm not even sure how we'd call them - there were no payphones anywhere near the parking lot.

Then we saw two guys that had been sitting near us at the concert. Their car - a lovely yellow Pinto - was parked near us! And they were going to the north suburbs too! And they were willing to drive us home as long as all four of us could fit in the back! And so we did. And no, we didn't know that if we were rear ended, the Pinto would burst into a ball of gas-fueled flames. And even if we were aware of the danger I'm not sure we had much of a choice. And since when have 16 year olds cared all that much about danger - they're going to live forever, after all. So we all scrunched into the back of the Pinto and managed to get home.

G's dad had to drive her back to Rosemont in the middle of the night to retrieve the Volvo. To this day, she'll probably remember the fact that when she drove the Volvo into the school parking lot that morning, exhausted and unshowered, the school yearbook photographer took her picture as an example of the seniors driving to school. Isn't it always like that?