I’ve always lived for Saturday nights.
Don’t get me wrong, I hold no prejudice for Friday, they’re fine too, but that is a tired sort of day. It’s just that the end of the week kicks butts, even when I was a kid.
Saturday nights are what I’m talking about. Saturday is the rock star and the other days are the groupies and wanna-be’s.
I mean, you don’t see many songs written for Friday but I can name a bazillion ballads written all for the love of what’s to come on Saturday.
In fact, I’m pretty darn sure that Loverboy wrote Everybody’s Working For The Weekend completely knowing it would become my teenage mantra and theme song.
When I was in elementary school, the only thing the weekend meant to me was no school.
We’d be taken to see our beloved grandparents. We’d sometimes have playdates. And, when the sun started going down and Lawerence Welks bubbles started billowing, a babysitter would show up at our house and we’d received perfumed kisses as our parents flew out of the house.
Yeah, apparently the ‘rents coined the expression that propelled the Loverboy hit, eh?
As I got older, like middle school age, weekends meant sleeping in, ballet and being schlepped to antique shows all over Michigan and the outlying states.
I knew what bakelite was and how to identify if the bangles were made from real or fake far before I had any reason to. Like I EVER had any reason to know anyways.
But then I hit high school and Saturdays took on a whole new meaning.
Driving up and down Orchard Lake Road to see what was going on.
I discovered real nightlife.
The ones that didn’t card and the ones that were for us teenagers that harbored a supposed safe environment for us under aged set.
Dancing became my national pastime. I danced into the groove all night long. Well, until I had to be home for my ridiculously early 11:30 curfew.
College, 20’s and even into my 30’s, Saturday nights were like a holiday. I expected to go out and have fun.
Saturday nights were the weekly New Years Eve equivalent.
Saturday nights were ALWAYS and ONLY about having fun. Unless, of course, one of my kids were sick. I ALWAYS canceled plans for a sick kid, they took priority to dinner and dancing.
I’d sometimes even stay home if I were sick. Very sick.
But now, I’m a little bit past my 30’s. Just a little.
In my mind, I still love the idea of going out and getting crazy wild.
My body thinks otherwise.
Saturday nights come around and I’m just as tired for them as I am for Friday nights.
Sometimes, we don’t even go out on the weekend anymore.
As badly as I want to go out and let the DJ make us fall in love again, I’m too tired a lot of the time.
Dinner and movies. Maybe. Mostly, just dinner.
I’m going to have to get used to the fact that New Years Eve is only one night a year.
And sometimes, it doesn’t even fall on a Saturday.