T. Torrest takes a walk down 1990s memory lane

T. Torrest, author of Down the Shore, a Rock-and-Roll Romantic Comedy, joins HEA to fondly recall some music from the mid-1990s, the setting for her new release.

T. Torrest: Bee Girl. Melrose Place. Cassette tapes. Beepers.

1995 was a great year for my memories. I was five years out of high school and was sure I could rule the world, even if I had no idea how to go about doing so. I suppose that mentality held true for any other twentysomething labeled with the dubious title of Slacker: invincibility juxtaposed with hopelessness.

My ideals ran high even though employment prospects were low. I soon learned no one was going to pay me to watch '80s movies all day and spout off about the sorry state of the world. How dare those Baby Boomers leave us to clean up their mess?

Those same Boomers were the key to a weekly paycheck, however, and my stash of ramen was running pretty thin. Should I sell out? Get a job behind a desk for the next 30 years?

How utterly uninspiring.

Thank God I had some good music to listen to while I tried to figure it all out. After being inundated with a decade's worth of synchronized keyboards and crunchy hair, the Seattle surge finally brought us some decent tunes. Flannel-clad warriors led Generation X to the front lines of a long-overdue cultural battle as we fought for our rightful place in the world.

Here we are now. Entertain us.

Like most of you, my early 20s were spent in rock clubs, checking out the local bands, maybe indulging in a Zima or two. Musically speaking, 1995 was a great year for everyone, but personally, it was a major turning point in my life.

Here's my soundtrack to explain why:

• Plowed, Sponge. My sister, our roommate and I met up with some friends at a bar down in central Jersey. Sponge was on the bill, and why not check out an up-and-coming band on our way to the beach? I met a new guy that night, a friend of my friends. Total hottie. Great smile. Biting wit. While Sponge played in the background, Mike and I traded sarcastic barbs all night.

• Seether, Veruca Salt. My new boyfriend and I were both Yankees fans, and we soon discovered we had tickets to the same game. My family had box seats right on the third-base line; Mike was going to be a Bleacher Creature with his friends. We met up in the spiral ramp during the seventh-inning stretch. Seether was piping in through the sound system, and we sang along between stolen kisses, changing the lyrics to "Can't fight the Jeter."

• Big Empty, Stone Temple Pilots. 1995 was also the year of the infamous O.J. Simpson trial. My aforementioned roommate and I happened to be on vacation in Los Angeles in '94 the day the Bronco chase went down. The horror of a Heisman Trophy winner being accused of a double homicide notwithstanding, that trip was one of the best weeks of my life. It was hard to leave at the end of it. We had Big Empty cranking as we cruised to the airport, singing at the top of our lungs — a proper goodbye to an amazing city. When O.J.'s trial was the only thing on the tube the following year, my memory was constantly thrown back to that week in LA as STP played on repeat in my mind.

• You Oughta Know, Alanis Morissette. Late that fall, Mike and I broke up. No worries — we got back together a few months afterward. Twenty years and two kids later, we're still disgustingly in love. But during our breakup, this scorching, vindictive anthem was a pretty epic tune for me.

• Backwater, The Meat Puppets. They may have been around longer than Nirvana, but I only first discovered this band in '94 on a nod from Kurt Cobain. Months later, Cobain would leave us, but I was grateful for the music he left behind. That includes his recs. By '95 I was obsessed with this song. So much so that it became the inspiration behind a book I wrote … about a girl who meets a guy one night while checking out an up-and-coming band.

As the year drew to a close, I was only marginally closer to the person I was ultimately going to be. Then again, I was only 23. No one has their life figured out at 23, am I right?

Come to think of it, I guess I'm still trying to figure it all out. Thank God I have some good music to listen to while I do.

About Down the Shore:

Her dating life is a lackluster parade of evasive jerks and her boss is an unrelenting nightmare of a human being.

What else can a girl do but rent a beach house with her girlfriends and blow off a little steam every weekend?

But hey, she's from Jersey. Barhopping down the shore all season is sort of mandatory.

All is going according to plan… until she meets Jack.

Jack Tanner is a contractor-turned-musician in a small-town cover band suddenly thrust into the limelight.

He's already had enough of the rock-and-roll lifestyle, and groupies have never been his thing.

Then again… there's a gorgeous brunette in the audience tonight, checking him out with the most incredible green eyes he's ever seen.

She's looking for a fling. He's looking for forever. It's gonna be one helluva summer.

Find out more about T. Torrest and her books at www.ttorrest.com.