Mr. Blue Sky Was Mr. Red Flag

Songs mean different things to different people. But science shows that for most, songs are tied to strong emotions, events, and memories. And hearing the song again can take one back to the moment that is inexorably tied to that music. Such is the case with this one song by E.L.O, otherwise known as the band Electric Light Orchestra.

This song is not new to anyone who is a fan of Guardians of the Galaxy and probably dozens of other movies that feature Mr. Blue Sky, but for me, it brings back one memory. And only till now have I taken the time to review it with the keen 20/20 eyes of hindsight to view it for what it was, a big ole red flag.

It is 1999, we are newly married, it is winter in Virginia. Which means it feels like late summer, early fall. Somehow, we had ended up at a house party at the house of a friend who had gone AWOL from the Navy. He had returned to his hometown and was lying low, living his life outside of the military. I still don’t know why he took off, but there we were in the home of the University of Virginia – Blacksburg, VA. And we were driving back to Virginia Beach. And by we, I mean me. At the time, I was pregnant, so I was automatically the designated driver whenever we went out. This time was no exception.

For this road trip, he’d brought some of his CDs. We were in my old car (our only vehicle), which I had stuck an aftermarket CD player in because I absolutely cannot stand driving long distances (or any distance, to be honest) without music. And I refuse to be a slave to the radio.

The radio aversion was a byproduct of moving around so much between college, post-college, and military life. which meant that I could never find a good radio station, and I hate absent-minded radio chatter with the passion of a thousand suns. So CDs and mixed CDs that I would burn for myself were my go-to car soundtrack.

It’s almost a 5-hour drive between bumblefuck, Virginia, and Virginia Beach. I don’t recall the trip, to be honest, except for this part. It was very late at night. After midnight, if I had to estimate a time, the roads were deserted. We must have been taking back roads because what I remember is that my then husband, mr horrible, was drunk off his ass. I mean, so fucking drunk that he was behaving erratically.

So here we are, on the way back to our apartment in Virginia Beach. He is drunk as hell, and he wants to listen to this song on repeat and feel the wind in his hair. The song playing was Mr. Blue Sky by ELO. My old car didn’t have a sunroof. His solution was to lower the passenger window, take off his seatbelt, and stick his torso out the window, telling me to drive faster.

I recall bits and pieces of the night, like getting into an argument with him because he didn’t want to leave. Getting annoyed because I was pregnant and the only person in the whole house not drunk off their rocker. Finally having to drag him into the car because we still had to report for duty on Monday to our respective commands. We weren’t going AWOL like this friend of ours.

I remember him yelling at me. I don’t remember the argument or what it was about, nor how long it lasted. It’s like that whole evening is just separate little snapshots that surround this one moment with the song.

Thinking back on it, I don’t remember feeling anything except for annoyance and worry because he was acting so crazy. But I indulged him; it seemed fun the first time the song played as I drove fast down the road. But it was dark, and this was a billion years ago, before most of the roads we used to drive down back in the day started getting overdeveloped. I bet if I drove that same stretch now, it would be covered with streetlights, housing developments, and traffic.

That particular night, there was nary another soul on the road. Just miles of grass and a dark moonless sky on this deserted stretch of road.

His behavior was problematic. It was dangerous. And yet I stayed. We hadn’t even been married a year. That incident was hardly a blip on my radar at the time. Hindsight proves otherwise. I should have recognized it for what it was: An early warning sign that rocky shores lay ahead.