That 45 Year-Old Song I Just Remembered I Wrote

Resurrecting a Song From My 21-Year Old Mindset

When your birthday rolls around, you tend to reflect. Around my 21st birthday in March 1981, I couldn’t wait to escape what felt like the shackles of higher education. Just a couple more months! After four years of college, I was about to graduate with a degree in Communications - Radio/TV/Film. I earned straight A’s in my major courses and just enough passing grades in the required classes I deemed “not useful” to my future endeavors.

Except for a $2,000 VA education grant—awarded to me because of my dad’s service and heroism in WWII—I paid every penny of my college and living expenses myself. Dad passed away when I was 14, and mom’s plan was to make sure I started on a path to independence at an early age. She got me a dishwashing job on my 14th birthday at the neighborhood restaurant where she waited tables. She explained it was time to cut me off from the “funny money” she previously provided. From then on, I always had at least one part-time job. By 18, she charged me $100 a month to live at home. She was a fiery lady, strong willed, loved to hear about whatever I was up to, and always proud of me and my brothers. I didn’t mind the push to earn my own money. I was happy to pay for my independence as long as she didn’t chide me for not keeping my room tidy.

Mom and Me at High School Graduation

I wasn’t academically gifted in High School—plenty of A’s and B’s and the occasional C. After dad passed I lost interest in playing hockey, baseball and football. He came to all my games and it was depressing not seeing him in the stands. I abandoned sports and immersed myself in music, speech, theatre and became editor of my school newspaper in my senior year. I never was quite sure what to do to be successful at any of it. It felt more like I was throwing myself at all of it with reckless abandon. I was certain sheer will would be enough to earn good roles on stage and speech competition awards. I really had no idea what I was doing and, ironically, lacked confidence in my talent. I thought I wanted to apply to journalism school at Syracuse but the cost was prohibitive, even if I could get accepted. There were no scholarship offers. Mom didn’t have the money to cover college costs and she vocally advised against loans, but she encouraged me to find a way to make it work. So, I chose in-state tuition at a small state college an hour from home.

Between 1977 and 1981, a Pennsylvania state college education was far more affordable compared to today. (That’s a topic for another article.) My freshman year tuition, room and board totaled about $2,300. The VA grant and my small savings easily covered year one. After that, I worked through three of my remaining college years, including two and a half years in professional radio. I got lucky and leveraged my college radio station experience into some minimum-wage weekend Top 40 radio shifts in a nearby town.

Each semester, tuition was around $500, and I pre-purchased an “anytime” dining hall ticket for about $250 so I wouldn’t go hungry if I was broke. I rented a tiny room in a campus town row house for $250 per semester. The entire summer rent was only $150–allowing me to work extra hours at the station to save for the next round of tuition. I was able to get a loan to buy a used car, that my salesman actually co-signed for, and I cleared the balance before graduation.

I impatiently had to endure the last few months of college before chasing some kind of gypsy creative life in radio, acting, and/or music. By my senior year, I was working up to 30 hours a week—filling in at the radio station, writing copy, and producing commercials. Irony and coincidence collided when my radio production professor got fired from his weekend gig at another station, and they hired me to replace him—all while I was taking his course. (I was relieved he still gave me an A in his class!) I was offered a full-time radio job upon graduation but I didn’t want to stay near my college town. It was time to BOLT to broader horizons!

In retrospect I realize I was juggling part-time jobs at two stations 40 miles apart, directing student films and plays, acting in musicals, playing guitar at the student union or wherever I could gig for tips, and I was DJ-ing parties. I guess I was hustling. It felt more like I was still throwing myself at all of it.

In my senior year I remember the duality of believing my experience had already surpassed the value of my degree, while also feeling very alone mustering up an awkward confidence. My friends became disconnected and forward-looking themselves. It was time to let go of what we knew.

Hopefully, this gives you a glimpse into my 21 year-old mindset in March 1981.

So…the song from 45 years ago.

For better or worse, Over Again was a reflection of who I thought I was, or could be, as I was about to make my break for the wild unknown. Recently, I was diddling on my guitar and suddenly recalled this long-forgotten tune. I decided to record it in my basement studio. It’s a tough one to share. Listening to it now makes me cringe a bit. I seemed so self-aware and cocksure when I wrote it, but I know I was simultaneously masking my loneliness and fear of the unknown.

Perhaps it was authentic to my aspirations in spite of my insecurities. Maybe I wrote it as an accountability song—a battle cry—as stronger armor for the journey ahead.

After all these years, I can appreciate it as a musical diary entry from a scintilla of my youthful timeline. Even more, I appreciate your ear. Until you listen, it’s a song nobody really ever heard. Except, maybe a tolerant hall mate…through their wall, in that rundown old row home at college.

Listen to Over Again.

I’m not searching for signs

I’m not looking for answers

I figure I can learn a lot about life

Just by taking my chances

Sure I’ll travel down some dead-end roads

I might let go of everything I know

Then I’ll find some more seeds to sow

And start all over again

I’m not waiting for truth

I will let honesty guide me

I will call it like I see it until

I put all my lies behind me

And at night I’ll kneel down and pray

For the only truth that’s ever gonna save me

And some common sense the good Lord gave

To start all over again

(Chorus)

Start all over again

When the river ends

Or if the shallows bind me

Start all over again

When the winds of change

Kick up my heels behind me

But I won’t forget the lessons learned

And I must rebuild the bridges burned

To start all over again

I’m not looking for love

Won’t waste time wishin’ or hopin’

I figure good love’ll come stumblin’ in

If I just keep my heart open

But I know that I can’t make her stay

And in the morning if she’s gone away

Well my heart will beat another day

I’ll start all over again

(Repeat chorus)

Over Again is also available on Spotify, Apple Music and wherever you stream your favorite songs.