I know this much is true: Music transcends time

The song was "Wasted on the Way," by Crosby, Stills and Nash.

It was nothing special to me, except for a memory.

"This reminds me of delivering pizzas," I told Mrs. Brad.

She's heard that before, when I've heard "Rosanna," by Toto. "Eye in the Sky," by the Alan Parsons Project. "True," by Spandau Ballet. "What's Love Got to Do With It," by Tina Turner.

None of them are special songs for me, other than being pizza delivery songs. I don't love them, I don't hate them. They were the soundtrack of that time of my life, indelibly linked to driving around my hometown in a Volkswagen Rabbit, dropping off family-sized pepperoni pizzas for a 75-cent delivery charge and (hopefully) a $3 tip.

"Jump," by Van Halen. "How 'Bout Us," by Champaign. "Queen of Hearts," by Juice Newton.

That's the power of music, I guess. We all have songs that take us back to a specific time. Every generation has specific songs that they identify with fun times in high school. Or heartbreak in high school. Or alienation or self-realization or one specific weekend. Or a special friend or a first girlfriend or boyfriend.

There are songs we associate with specific moments. The song that played at a wedding. Our mom's or dad's favorite tune that they would turn up when we were in the car.

Those are magical songs.

"Wasted on the Way" isn't at that level for me. Nor is "Queen of Hearts," nor even "All Those Years Ago," by George Harrison.

They are tunes I associate with a stage of life. Working at a pizza parlor at night. Going to college during the day. Working with teenagers at church. Dating Mrs. Brad before she was Mrs. Brad. During that era, I spent hours and hours in my car, taking pizzas to homes and motels and workplaces. I spent hours and hours in the pizza parlor, with the radio turned on in the background.

Always a top-40 station. A mix of the Rolling Stones and Sheena Easton and Chicago and Air Supply and Loverboy.

There were artists that I loved in that era: The Commodores and Earth Wind and Fire. Billy Joel. Huey Lewis and the News. Their music doesn't remind me of delivering pizza. When I hear those songs, I think of MTV and dating Mrs. Brad and hanging with my friends.

Not background music. Foreground music. But the rest? Still memorable.

You may well have music that has similar associations for you. Maybe it's the music that played at your workplace. Or in car where you were a passenger. Maybe it's the music that you listened to while commuting or walking around wearing ear buds.

"Wasted on the Way," is a fine song that sounds a lot like other Crosby, Stills and Nash songs. If it was popular at any other time, I'd probably know it, but not remember it. But it was popular during a time I spent hours and hours every week driving around town, listening to top-40 music and not worrying about much.

It wasn't a special song, it was just a memorable song.

And I guess that's what makes music special. Even songs that aren't magic for us retain a level of magic in our memories.

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.