To remind him of the feeling of romance

Many people I know seem to hate their high school years. Given my circumstances, I still have a few fond memories.

One of the reasons I don’t look back in anger, I think, is the undeniable power and allure of my first car along with my first taste of freedom. Well, that combined with my first taste of romance. Or at least the possibility and promise of it.

Of course, that heady cocktail had to be accompanied by a soundtrack, and in the early ‘70s, for my money nothing hit the spot better than the Raspberries.

A Cleveland band raised on the British invasion, the Raspberries nearly defined power pop, with plenty of hooks and optimistic lyrics about love, romance, crushes and sex. And more sex. And, for good measure, a little bit more sex. Or more succinctly, the desire for sex.

These guys sounded so sincere and innocent, as if they thought they could convince any girl to do whatever they wanted.

Driving in my Torino on a warm summer night with the windows down with “Fresh Raspberries” in the 8-track player seemed to open up a world of possibilities: Maybe that girl will actually talk to me. Maybe she’ll notice how cool I look in this car. Maybe ”Let’s Pretend” will speak to her just the way it speaks to me.

Oh course, I can’t go back, but if I could, I know just what I would do.

I’d get in my car, and drive around with Overnight Sensation (Hit Record) as loud as it could go.

And everything would be all right.

Side note: The Raspberries debut album had a scratch and stiff sticker that actually smelled like raspberries. I peeled the sticker off and affixed it to my dresser’s mirror. The sticker finally came off a few years ago, but I can still get a slight whiff of it if I put my nose close enough to the mirror (which is now in Ruby’s bedroom).

Strictly 100 – Number 5: The Raspberries