STROLLING DOWN MEMORY LANE....AT 55 MPH

For as long as I can remember, falling asleep has been difficult. Over the years I've employed a variety of methods to get the job done including prescription sleep aids, working a second job, staying up 'til all hours behaving raucously with friends, and reading the latest edition of The Wall Street Journal online. Each method has worked with varying degrees of success, but lately the simple task of sleep has become more elusive than ever.

I think I may be in good company because many of the things keeping me up nights are most likely shared by many; possible unemployment, financial instability, deadlines, health issues, the upcoming holiday season, and general concerns over the future are probably sending more than a few people to join me for a midnight read of the WSJ.

A few nights ago though, none of the usual sleep aids seemed to work and I again found myself pacing about the house at 1 am. So in absolute frustration, and with the feeling of the house closing in around me, I did something I haven't done in ages; I threw on some slightly grubby clothes, grabbed my drivers license, a few dollars and my keys, and went for a drive.

I used to do this quite a bit when I was younger, and that night I was reminded of how refreshing it is to leave the trappings of day-to-day life behind, albeit only briefly, driving about on the empty roads with only your own thoughts and whatever music is coming from the stereo system. That night my musical tastes were geared for what are now called "golden oldies" (I prefer to call them "timeless classics"), and perhaps because there weren't the usual daytime distractions, some of the tunes brought back instant memory flashes of similar drives many years ago.

The Spinners Games People Play came blasting out of the sound system, reminding me of a midnight drive when I worried how I was ever going to be able to afford the $95.00 monthly rent on my first apartment. Following not far behind on the playlist was Kenny Loggins' I'm Alright, a song that seemed to play continuously on my cross-country move to Los Angeles; a drive memorable not for the sights and adventure of the trip, but for the fact on that drive I worried how I was going to find a job, where I was going to live, and how I was going to eat... From Dionne Warwicke's Heartbreaker to Michael Jackson's Human Nature, it seemed no small coincidence that each song filling the car's interior had some connection with past midnight drives spent with good tunes and a chance to think through life's concerns.

This went on for about an hour, and with gas running low, and the thought of sleep at last not a scary thing, I headed home to the tune of Electric Light Orchestra's Mr Blue Sky, a song that's impossible to hear and not be happy. Then, when I finally pulled into the parking lot and turned off the CD it hit me: the worries and stresses that keep me awake nights now are the same worries and stresses that kept me awake nights then, and despite everything I thought could possibly go wrong with my life, I'm still here.

I don't think I'll wait so long to take another trip down memory lane at 55 MPH. With good music, empty roads and nothing to clutter your mind, it's easy to put things into perspective and remind yourself that, as confused and uncertain as things might seem at the moment, life is going to be just fine, after all.