As Sharon and Will were caught in rush hour traffic, a Bryan Adams song came on the radio. Sharon immediately turned it up.
“I love this song. I haven’t heard this in forever,” she exclaimed.
“I remember this song was on when we played baseball when I was a kid. Stevie Kowpak brought a radio and set it up behind the dugout fence. Mateo Foccacio hit a pop up that landed a couple of feet from it. We watched like it was in slow motion. I swear,” laughed Will, “Stevie almost wet himself when it happened.”
Sharon looked over at Will. “Isn’t it funny how music makes us remember stuff we thought we forgot? This was the record Amy Leopold played when her boyfriend dumped her in grade nine. I went over to help her feel better. We put on Bryan Adams, and before you know it, we were dancing around like maniacs, laughing our heads off.”
The two stared out the windshield, each savouring their cherished memories. The traffic crept along beside them.
“I wonder what music today will become classics?” asked Sharon.
“I don’t know. Music back then was better than the crap they make today,” replied Will.
“I know, right? They haven’t made a good album since the mid nineties,” said Sharon.
“If even that late,” added Will.
They sighed in unison.
“No wonder the world’s falling apart,” concluded Sharon. “The kids of today have nothing to look forward to.”
Will nodded. “You got that right.”