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As Short One A, Short One B and I traveled down the freeway to grandma’s house for the weekend, I turned on the radio and scanned until I found one playing some great rock and roll. Guns and Roses blared about their sweet child, and suddenly I was twenty years old again. The sky was no longer black as night but deliciously blue and the sun shone on my un-wrinkled body with its warmth.

Suddenly, the world was an open ball of exploration, and I was the female Columbus.

Following G’n'R, and my unabashed singing as the girls in the back stared at me as though I had grown a second head, Van Halen’s tunes blew through the speakers with ease. I was at a hotel then, twenty something, drunk, ready for the concert to begin. Then I was there, singing about ice cream men. Ogling Eddie. Ah, Eddie.

Then the bitch DJ came on, interrupting my back-to-youth time travels with this declaration. “That was a little Van Halen for you. Coming up next, some Pearl Jam, on the best classic rock station around.”

It was as though someone pulled the needle across the album. Everything stopped, including my heart. My foot tapped the brake unexpectedly, and I began to screech.

“Classic Rock? Are you kidding me! What does she mean by classic rock?”

From the backseat, Short One A said, “What’s classy rock?”

“Classic ROCK,” I yelled, “is music that used to be good A LONG TIME AGO!”

I stopped. Remembered.

Oh yea, that was twenty years ago, wasn’t it? “This is NOT classic rock!” I tried to emphasize, but the sizzle began to burn away and reality set in.

Sadly, I suppose it is classic rock.

You see, when I was listening to G’N'R back in the day, Seger and Floyd were considered classic rock.

You know, the guys who used to bring the house down but who, at that point, were older and, well, definitely not so attractive.

That’s where we are now, though, you see? Consider Eddie Van Halen. Back in the day, simply hot! Now? Well, take a look for yourself. Time has done to him what it has done to all of us - made us softer around the edges, fluffier and, well, wrinklier if you will.

Whitesnake, Great White, Motley Crue - these guys were the shit back in the day. Now, though, they are simply older musicians who, if they are still living the dream, are doing so playing in pool halls and convalescent homes. (That’s ok by me; when they lock me up in one of those nursing homes I want to know that Friday night’s dinner will be accompanied by a large glass of vino and the sounds of Jon Bon Jovi. I’m good with that!)

At some point, when I wasn’t looking, I went from listening to hard core rock and roll to Disney tunes and songs that had lines like:

Just a boy and a girl in a little canoe
With the moon shining all around

And, my friends, during this transition those rockers I loved were cutting their hair, getting married, and aging. Just like me.

I guess it happens to all of us.

And while this doesn’t make me feel any better about it all, I do wonder what Axl thinks when he hears himself being described as a classic rocker. Im sure, just for one second, he is back in his Camaro with the T-tops open, banging his head along in time to a tune about a girl with eyes of the bluest skies; and, for one instant, he’s young again.

For my classic rock friends, to times remembered. May this make you feel young again. (Oh, and I have to add the link, not the video, because my mom has dial up and if I attempt to embed anything into my post her computer may implode).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-AYAv0IoWI