The News

They say that the more something changes, the more it stays the same. In case you’re wondering who “they” are, the answer is Huey Lewis and the News, who had that line in “I Know What I Want“ on their Fore! album.

I can now tell you that the reverse is also true. The more something stays the same, the more it changes.

Photo: Hilda Arhammar Pakarinen

Last night, I took three generations of the family to a hockey game at the local rink. The rink that was such a boost to the city and such a miracle that a friend of mine and I walked around the construction site to see where the dressing rooms would be and where the rink, and – dreaming big – what would be the cafeteria area.

And once the new arena was built, I spent many a day and night in those dressing rooms, in that rink, and yes, in that café.

And in the stands. Often way up, sitting next to my Dad who had a season ticket right in the middle, on the last row of the section. In that arena, those are not nosebleeds, they’re great seats. Sometimes sitting with my buddies in what was actually a standing room area, but with the arena never fully packed, we could always sit.

Last night, we were neither way up, or in our usual corner, but on the other side of the rink from the corner, way down low. Son played his Nintendo DS the whole time, to the point that he didn’t even know whether the home team was wearing red or white, and Daughter, having tired of clapping her hands, spent half of the game watching a movie on my iPhone.

So, that left me and Dad watching the game. Nothing unusual about that. It’s always been our game anyway.

All four of us did eat the famous sausages. As always.

Had I closed my eyes – but of course, you never do that in a hockey game, kids – I probably could have fooled myself into thinking it was 1985 all over again, and that I had just run from the movie theater to the hockey arena, after a sneak preview of Back to the Future.

The last time I heard “Heaven’s on Fire” by Kiss, it WAS 1985, and I had it on videotape so that Terry and me could special study Paul Stanley’s awesomeness. And “Rock you like a hurricane” was my cousin’s favorite song during our gym weeks before our high school graduation. As was “Rebel yell”.

Bon Jovi’s “Runaway” reminded me of the guy I worked with one summer because he is the only guy who’s asked me if I know a certain song by reciting the lyrics – in a Finnish translation.

In a small town like this one, going to a game was – for me – more than just going to a game. It was my network. In every game, I would always walk around the arena – a holdout from the Helsinki arena where people used to do that – and see if I could find any friends. Classmates, schoolmates, neighbours, hockey players, and – who am I kidding? – girls, maybe.

Last night: not one.

And that’s what’s changed.

3 thoughts on “The News

  1. (Girls? Who are you kidding?)
    I have that same feeling when I ride the bus in our new neighbourhood (which is, incidentally, also my old neighbourhood). I always think I will run into someone I know, somewhere, but I won’t.

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