Immediately, I’m a teenager, taking my mother’s car loaded with my friends on a ride to Columbus, Ohio, to help a homesick friend acclimate to her new life at Ohio State, with Carly Simon crooning on the radio “Anticipation. An-ti-ci-pa-a-tion…” as we all sang riotously along, five dollars in our collective pockets for gas. Teenagers!
As I think back to the lyrics all these decades later, I’m struck by their seductive persuasion to live in the present moment. Through the filter of experience, I nod in agreement and continue to making my “good old days.”