Mostly, today’s song is about sailing under a bright full moon, but as a kid back in those early Pocono days, feeling trapped and wounded, this song was about hopeful release, the yearning for freedom, in so many ways. This song was on the charts when my only escape was reading about a group of stalwart teenagers from a hundred planets who often boarded their space jet and traversed the stars in the pursuit of galactic peace; I longed to be one of them, right down to their colorful jumpsuits and impossibly tall headquarters that jutted atop the skyline of a 30th century metropolis. I’d look up at the endless stars in my own front yard and close my eyes, pining for the day their space cruiser would come and find me, help me discover my own powers that I’d never known I’d had all along. I’d say goodbye to my sickly poodle and maybe hug my mother really hard, but I’d gladly board that cruiser and speed off to the far-flung future where anything and everything was possible. Yeah, so none of that is conveyed in the lyrics of this song, but when I hear it, it’s where my mind immediately goes. Every. Time. Walking the halls of the HQ with stocky Ultra Boy and his caped pal Mon-El, heading to the mission monitor room where Star Boy and Dream Girl were coyly bobbing a verbal spar while not really watching the edges of space on the monitor. I’d overhear Phantom Girl’s voice echoing in the hallways, giggling to her friend Shadow Lass as they turn to watch their respective boyfriends amble in the opposite direction. Soon a gust of air would gather and a colorful tunnel would open in mid-air as Superboy would appear from his own time, somewhere in the 1960s, and the mood would immediately change to that of celebration as everyone’s favorite caped hero had just arrived. That’s how alone I felt in 1980.
From the historical writing archive. Original date: November 24, 2015. Recovered from local source material; editorial review is still in progress.
