What were you up to in 1981? I was busy becoming a fine young rock-n-roller. Breaking as many rules as possible, giving the finger to anyone in authority and getting drunk and disorderly in both public and private, from garages to mud holes to keg parties in the woods. In hot-pursuit of the girls, an easy buck and the endless buzz, while the local constabulary was in hot pursuit of me and my merry band of miscreants. We escaped to the sugar-sand Central Florida back-roads where there was no one around to tell us to turn down the music, and man did we play it loud. And we played hard. Hats-off to all the old gang. Those were the times of our lives. “Moving Pictures” always seemed to be in the cassette deck of my ’61 Falcon for the most intense adventures, and hearing it today brings back some great memories. Unfortunately, listening to it doesn’t make me feel 38 years younger, not quite.