2.23.24

I can tell there’s no more time left to criticize

I’ve seen what I could not recognize

Everything in my life was leading me on

But I can be strong

Oh, yes I can

Today was the last day of school before winter break. It’s a much-needed break for students and staff alike.

Between sickness, big behaviors, and being just plain worn out, this might have been the most anticipated Friday afternoon of all time.

Winter break is the longest of the school year in Vermont. We get seven school days off, plus four weekend days, thanks to our annual Town Meeting Day. Ironically, winter break has always been a sign of spring for me, with talk of baseball and softball sign ups, the arrival of unpredictable weather that bounces between freezing cold and jacket-free warmth, and sugaring season.

My greatest winter break memory is music-related. It doesn’t take place during the days off from school, but in the hours right after dismissal on Friday, Feb. 19, 1988.

I was in 8th grade, and it had been a long day of Winter Carnival activities. When you’re a kid who hates winter and couldn’t care less about things like pep rallies, days like that are a drag. What got me through was the cassette Tom was letting me borrow. It was Boston’s 1978 album, Don’t Look Back.

I’m not sure what it was, other than prolonged exposure to local classic rock station WIZN, that had the middle school abuzz about Boston that winter. As far as many were concerned, though, Boston was the shit.

And I had the cassette in my possession for the next 11 days.

I had the trailer to myself when I got home that afternoon. My sister was at a friend’s house, and Ma and Dad were still working at the barn, so I did what any sane 13-year old would do. I popped that cassette in the stereo and blasted it from 3:30 to 6. I ran around the living room like a maniac, just absolutely shredding the air guitar and serving up a master class on air drumming.

At least in my mind.

In reality, I probably looked fit to be tied.

My interest in Boston burned hard and fast. Pretty much by the time my parents got home, I’d had enough. I listened to the cassette a couple more times over break, then gave it back to Tom in homeroom when school started back up. The title track was definitely my favorite song from the album.

Today, I like Boston fine. If they’re on the radio, I won’t turn it off. But before today, I haven’t sought them out in years and years. I’m glad other people enjoy them. But if we’re talking classic rock bands named after places, I’d rather listen to Kansas.

I’m glad that 13-year-old farm kid got to have a bit of fun on a chilly February afternoon, though. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.