The Songs That Take Me Back

It’s the middle of the night again.

I’m on YouTube, falling down a rabbit hole of reaction videos—watching people discover Faithfully by Journey for the first time.

They call it timeless. Powerful. Emotional.

And I sit there smiling, because in 1993 that song was everything.

It takes me straight back to high school. Calling into the radio station. Nervously asking the DJ to dedicate it to my girlfriend. Waiting by the radio to hear my name. “Faithfully” wasn’t just a song—it was a moment. It was teenage love. It was long drives. It was possibility.

It was part of my life soundtrack.

And now I watch twenty-year-olds discovering it like it’s brand new.

It’s strange how music folds time like that.

Then the algorithm serves me something else.

A clip of Green Day performing Wake Me Up When September Ends on The Howard Stern Show.

And suddenly I’m not in my bedroom at 1 a.m.

I’m in a parking lot, watching storm clouds roll in.

It was the night I took Alex to see Green Day.

The weather was terrible.

Cold. Wet. Miserable.

It was an outdoor concert with lawn seats. No cover. Just grass and sky. I remember checking the forecast and secretly hoping it would be canceled. I was tired. It was a late night. Part of me didn’t want to deal with it.

I asked Alex what he wanted to do.

He wanted to go.

So we made ponchos out of trash bags.

We drove to the venue listening to the radio, waiting to hear if it had been called off.

It hadn’t.

And I’m so grateful it hadn’t.

We got there and it wasn’t as crowded as it would have been on a perfect summer night. The weather had scared some people off. That meant we could move closer.

We were on the lawn, out in the open. Rain threatening. No shelter.

At some point Alex walked down toward the covered seating area—right up to the edge of it. Close to the stage. He just stood there most of the night, completely in it. Watching one of his favorite bands.

I’d walk up every so often.

Check on him.

Make sure I knew where he was.

Make sure he was okay.

Then I’d go back to the lawn.

It was such a simple night.

But it became one of the most special memories I have.

It’s funny how the moments you almost skip become the ones you treasure most.

If the weather had been worse.

If the concert had been canceled.

If I had pushed harder to stay home.

That memory wouldn’t exist.

I almost missed it because I was tired.

Instead, I got one of the only concerts he ever really wanted to go to. I got to stand in the rain and watch my son come alive to music that mattered to him.

And now, years later, a YouTube clip pulls me right back there.

Music is strange like that. It doesn’t just remind you of who you were.

It reminds you of who you were with.

Tonight, “Faithfully” reminds me of a teenage version of myself.

“Wake Me Up When September Ends” reminds me of a father standing in wet grass, checking on his son, not realizing he was living a moment that would one day mean everything.