Here’s the thing: 5-hour energy used to have those ads about the 2:30 feeling. Where 2:30 hits and you say to yourself “I could really take a big-time nap right now but unfortunately I still have two-and-a-half hours left at my job that makes me want to murder children.”
In reality 5-hour makes me too jittery to be productive, so when it’s 2:30, and Ray’s chapping my ass about not blogging enough, I turn to a 2:30 jam to ratchet myself back up.
Today, we take another look at the eighties. Probably because I’ve been on a big 80’s kick since I went to LA for two weeks and discovered my favorite radio station of all-time (not going to say what it is because we don’t give free advertising goddammit). It was just pumping out piping hot 80’s bangers minute after minute, hour after hour, whether I was sitting still on the 405 or cruising Mullholland Drive checking out the phenomenal vistas.
This particular jam has been on my playlists for far longer than just a few days though.
Yeah, that’s right. It’s Whitney, motherfuckers.
This track first came into my life when my college roommate Julie had it as her ringback tone (remember when that was a thing?). I used to hope she wouldn’t answer my calls just so I could hear it. I’d put it on speaker and dance around while I waited for her to pick up. Shout out to her actually, getting married this weekend in Raleigh, N.C. I’d be going but for the fact that I have no money, no date and no prospects. I was invited though, for the record.
Whitney came back to me with a vengeance just a few weeks ago when we were moving out here. We stopped in Laramie, Wyo. for the night and proceeded to locate the Buckhorn, which lured us in with $2 Jack-and-Cokes and bullet holes in the walls. By 11 p.m. it was full of University of Wyoming girls who A) were extremely attractive and B) made us feel really old. We probably should have left, but, you know, $2 Jack. So we stayed for
a little while longer like 3 more hours and mostly stood on the side and gawked.
And then this song came on.
There would be no more standing on the side. I have a vague recollection of Ray busting his way into the middle of the dance floor with little-to-no regard for human life or what an ass he was making out of himself. I was right behind him, as was our other friend who was driving our moving truck. Someone has phone video of this, I’m certain, but I couldn’t find it. Just trust me when I say, we got after it out there. Just as you will for the rest of the day when you listen to it.
I mean, aren’t we all looking for somebody to take the chance on a love that burns hot enough to last?