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The faintest memories Jimmy has from his early childhood were the mornings where he would wake up and hear music in the family living room.
His little feet would lazily walk him into the room where his mother and father would be dancing together in a slow manner. Their bodies would be encircled in a sluggish loop, not really taking any steps. Still, the man and woman seemed very much happy this way.
It was, as it turned out, to be the only time Jimmy’s parents were so in love with each other. When they were dancing so closely with one another, listening to the words of Elvis Presley, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, and many others, there was happiness. No yelling, no throwing punches, no throwing dishes or vases, no crying, nothing. Only love for once.
Other memories from his childhood were when Jimmy would be riding in his father’s old muscle car on Saturday nights, the radio blasting those same songs from those same musicians. Jimmy never really knew what these songs were talking about, too young to understand obviously. He just found the way they sounded to be cool. He liked to hear the guitar riffs, the drums, the pianos, and the vocals. All of these made the late car rides special to young Jimothy Bending. They even helped him fall asleep in the back seat, the passing street lights always being the last images he would see before his eyes became much too heavy to stay open.
It took Jimmy several years after such nostalgic days, many years after his father had left the picture one day, to realize that the songs were actually aged. The music was even older than his own parents. They were the songs and musicians of his grandparents’ age, of the 1950s and 1960s. Jimmy never knew what ended up happening with his father after he walked out of his life, and he rarely spoke with his own mother after she kicked her then 18-year-old son out of the house. He did know that such songs and dancing stopped after his dad was gone, so he figured it was that son of a bitch who loved that kind of music.
Despite all that had happened, though, Jimmy still liked that genre of music. He even extended his ear to later songs from the 1970s and so on, becoming a lover of all kinds of genres and eras of music. Living in Los Santos, on the other hand, he felt that people in the city at this time and age did not appreciate such music. Nobody talked about or listened to “old people” songs, especially those that their grandparents grew up with. Los Santos is where everything new and trendy is happening, and the music of Los Santos was loud rap.
So that was what Jimmy started listening to nowadays, and it eventually became the only type of music he listened to.
******
Jimmy and Stan were parked on stable enough ground at the top of the Vinewood sign hill. They laid on the hood of Jimmy’s Camaro car, and they were currently looking down over the night lights of the Los Santos city. The men were relaxed as they spoke about the day's events. There was their oxy delivery runs, the car having to be repaired due to Jimmy’s negligent steering, as usual, a quick in-and-out at the Pillbox hospital, and the short-lived house robbery before they had ended up at this hill to have a change of pace.
After conversing, the two were quiet for a while. The only sounds being heard were of the crickets all around them, the distant cars from down below on the roads, and the booming rap music playing from Jimmy’s car radio. It was all they had been listening to for most of the day, and Jimmy was starting to grow tired of hearing it any longer. He gradually sat up and excused himself to switch up the radio station, dismissing Stan’s remark that there maybe could be a station all about banjo duets or whatever music the older man use to enjoy in Indianapolis.
Jimmy sat in the driver’s seat, careful not to accidentally make contact with the joystick or engine controls that would send the car flying down the high hill. He was continuously pressing the arrows on the radio panel in search of a good station, something that was not hip hop or rap music for once. There was a station that was playing pop music, but not even Jimmy wished to hear that garbage.
He lost count of how many times he had pressed the arrow dial until he reached a station that made Jimmy pause the constant skipping. He stared down at the name of the radio station, along with hearing the music that was spilling out of the speaker of the car. The station was called Rock & Roll Hits of the Golden Years; it was a classic rock & roll station that played old school music.
The type of music that his father would always listen to. The type of music that Jimmy used to listen to. The type that brought him back to all those distant, long faded years.
As if this was not enough, it was also the song currently playing that struck Jimmy. It was “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” by Paul Anka. Jimmy listened to the lyrics, making the reminiscing all the more effective.
Put your head on my shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby
Squeeze me oh so tight
Show me that you love me too
Put your lips next to mine, dear
Won’t you kiss me once, baby
Just a kiss goodnight
Maybe you and I will fall in love
This exact song was one of the many his parents would slow dance to sometimes, this much he distinctly remembered. He recalled his mother’s small and gentle face resting on Jimmy’s father’s shoulder like the song said for her to do. In return, his father would kiss his mother’s hair as they would continue to sway, even running his fingers gently through the long brown strands.
The remembering almost brought tears to Jimmy’s eyes. He was trying to fight them back because he knew that if one tear fell he would not be able to stop the rest of them from falling.
However, once the song had finished and the next one started, all of his efforts were lost.
The song that replaced Paul Anka was “Angel Baby” by Rosie & The Originals. This was another song his parents would slow dance to, and if Jimmy remembered correctly, it was also one that would lull him to sleep all those Saturday night drives long ago. Before Jimmy knew what was happening, tears were sliding down his cheeks faster than he could comprehend, and he was reduced to a sniffling mess.
The last thing Jimmy wanted was for Stan to see him like this, but this too was lost.
“Jimmy?” he heard Stan softly whisper. “A-are you okay?” Jimmy’s eyes were blocked by thick tears that he had not noticed that Stan had left his place on the car hood and was now standing next to the driver side door.
“Y-yeah. I-I’m a-alright,” Jimmy said as he took off his sunglasses and wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
Stan was not convinced, but he nodded. “Ya know, my folks loved this song. It was their favorite. I think it was even their wedding song.”
If this was Stan’s way of comforting Jimmy, it certainly did not help. It only made Jimmy sob some more, which alarmed Stan.
“O-oh I...I uh...I-I’m sorry, Friendly J! I-I didn’t mean to...to make this w-worse!”
“It’s...it’s okay, Stan. I know...you didn’t mean to.” Jimmy had composed himself enough to stop the waterworks. He looked up at Stan and gave a faint smile. “This song was my folks’ favorite too. They used to always dance to it.”
“O-oh. Well then, t-that must have been quite nice to see.”
“Yeah, it was,” Jimmy chuckled.
They were back to being quiet for a moment while the song played out.
Jimmy wished to just listen to it for the nostalgia factor, but then an idea formed in his head. If he wanted to do it, he had better act fast. Jimmy looked back up at Stan as he steadily got out of the car, and then he put out his hand to him.
Stan stared down at Jimmy’s palm puzzlingly. “What? You want me to hand you some gas money? Didn’t you just fill up the tank before we got here?”
“I’m not asking for cash, Stan.”
“Then what, Jimmy?”
Rather than wasting precious time waiting for Stan to understand it all, Jimmy rolled his eyes as he took Stan’s hand and walked them around to the front of the car where the city lights could easily be seen. He raised the hand he held with Stan up a tad bit while his other hand intertwined with Stan’s free one. Jimmy brought their bodies closer together and he stared into the clear blue hue of Stan’s eyes, smiling at the blond. It was then that Stan blushed a beet red as he smiled back, getting it now.
“Just don’t step on my feet,” Jimmy remarked as he started them on a slow side-to-side movement.
“I-I’ll t-try not t-to,” Stan bashfully stuttered. He really was careful to not mess up as he followed Jimmy’s lead.
The movement was awkward at first, as the two were obviously not ones to have ever slow danced with anyone before. They then began to adopt a slow swaying rhythm as they circled around in a constant loop, much like Jimmy had remembered. They focused on their footing and each other as the song continued to play out, the lyrics becoming a serenade for the cherished moment.
Please, never leave me blue and alone
If you ever go, I’m sure you’ll come back home
Because I love you, I love you, I do
Angel baby, my angel baby
It’s just like Heaven being here with you dear
I could never stay away without you near
Because I love you, I love you, I do
Angel baby, my angel baby
The soft, sweet singing from the songstress and her lyrics, along with the way they were dancing, could have easily reduced Jimmy to tears again. Except it was not that case anymore.
He was not saddened by memories anymore.
This moment right here was to be a new memory, one that would make Jimmy happy to remember any time.