I Can't Fight This Feeling Any Longer…..

I'm giving away my age by telling you I grew up smack-dab in the middle of the 80's, graduating from high school at 17 years old in 1985. I lived with my depression-era grandparents in a nice neighborhood in a small, comfortable town in central Iowa.

Although I wasn't an angel by any stretch of the imagination, believe it or not, I was painfully shy and secretly afraid of getting into any real trouble. My small social circle included cheerleaders, "preppies," the French Club kids, and lots of teens in Izod polos. You probably couldn't have been any more "whitebread" than I was, at least at that time. 

To say I wasn't a big fan of the heavy metal "Hairbands" mania that was sweeping away all the young people during that decade is an understatement, even if it's not that surprising.

But heavy-metal bands sporting their wild, long hair (hence the "hairbands") were at the pinnacle of their popularity during that time. Most had brutal, rough, and shocking names like Slaughter, Twisted Sister, Def Leppard, Guns'n'Roses, Poison, Motley Crue, Quiet Riot (and so on). Their dirty, trashy clothing and loud, harsh, screaming style of music simply did not appeal to me. 

I tended to lean more towards Top 40 music like Cyndi Lauper, Adam Ant, Culture Club, Flock of Seagulls, and of course, the soundtrack from "Footloose." Being raised by my grandparents also gave me a greater appreciation for older and different types of music, even though I was probably the only kid my age who actually enjoyed Johnny Cash, Elvis, Glenn Miller, Frank Sinatra, and Benny Goodman. 

Dear hubby on the other hand, who graduated just five years before me in 1980 (in southern Indiana), was enjoying his youthful heyday during that decade. He spent the better part of the 80's and into the 90's doing his best to become a connoisseur of all things "hairbands" and thoroughly enjoyed the experiences of a young man coming of age in that era. And after attending bartending school (yes, he graduated!), he happily spent a great deal of his youth mostly occupied with hell raisin' and girl-chasin', and quite possibly even a little chemical experimentation. 

Who in that wild and crazy decade didn't--besides me? 

 Naturally, the hairbands and their brutal songs, with their shrieking guitars, grinding bass riffs, and pounding drum solos, became a constant soundtrack to the most beloved memories of his wild and free youth. The problem, for me anyway, is that he never got over it. To this day he is still a HUGE fan of all things "hairbands." It's always his first choice when I ask "what shall I play on the Bose today?" 

But since I adore my dear hubby, as a gift about ten years ago, I bought him a CD called "Monster Ballads." It included some of the most popular, if softer, heavy-metal love songs from that era. I dreaded the thought of him actually playing it, but I figured maybe I could endure it once in a while in between some of my Top 40 tracks. Unfortunately, he played that disc over and over, from start to end, for the better part of our last decade together. Until some days I thought my ears would bleed. 

But what's funny is, somewhere along the way I fell in love with those "monster ballads" as well. 

I'm still not a fan of the entire repertoire or the even the genre so much, but after listening to the heavy-metal love songs of our era (over and over again, thanks to DH), I've had a shift in my perspective. After hours spent soaking in the words to the songs and their possible meanings, I've found some beautiful and wonderfully poignant memories. And on the days when I'm missing my friends and family and familiar surroundings that I left behind in Iowa, or I just need a little reminder of my own happily misspent youth, I can often find a bit of solace and comfort in their lyrics. 

Turns out, nearly 30 years after my time (& theirs), I've become a "Hairbands" groupie after all. I still don't want to like them. But I do. At least their ballads. And sometimes on days like today, I give in and listen. 

So today I will pull up my iTunes account and play me some heavy-metal monster ballads. Because as REO Speedwagon, another great (if not truly heavy-metal) 80's band would say, "Baby, I can't fight this feeling any more." 

I'm thinking of you, dear hubby. And all my 80's pals. Rock on, my friends! Rock on!


REO Speedwagon's "I Can't Fight This Feeling" (circa 1985). 

I can't fight this feeling any longer.
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.
I said there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear.

And even as I wander,
I'm keeping you in sight.
You're a candle in the window,
On a cold, dark winter's night.
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
It's time to bring this ship into the shore,
And throw away the oars, forever.

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crushing through your door,
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.