Much like using the car you were driving as a yardstick for measuring time, what's playing on the radio is much the same way. It's neat the way our brains are wired - that a song, a simple juxtaposition of vocals, drums, and guitar, can evoke memories of a phase of one's life.
He's right, of course. I could tell you the story of my life through songs, from why "Take Me Home Country Roads" always makes me wistful on up to how Marie was dancing to "Gallo del Cielo" just before Erik left for work earlier. But I'm going to do the same sort of thing he did, instead.
Picture this: it's 1998. A much-younger Sabra and a much-more-feminine Mark are driving around in Mark's old Ford Aspire. They stop at the Texaco on Broadway in Alamo Heights to get gas and this song comes on the radio. They turn it up to the limits of the factory radio and start rocking out, dancing badly (on purpose) in the car.
Yes, boys and girls, we were shaking one of these:
Can it get geekier? Yes, yes it can. Because this is the song we were dancing to:
Mind you, I have no idea what we were up to that day. Probably nothing. Mark was going to UTSA at the time and I don't think I was doing much of anything other than looking, futilely, for a job and dating my ex-husband-to-be, but we spent a lot of time hanging out together doing not much of anything, a harbinger of future Friday nights spent getting drunk and watching bull-riding.
Damn, life was a lot less complicated back then.