Thursday, May 20, 2010
Road Trip Therapy
There is nothing like a road trip with your honey when you need to get the heck out of Dodge. When the need to escape overwhelms and to go anywhere, just anywhere, takes over. We do enjoy sailing down the highway with the radio on. There is something so freeing about this no matter what the final destination. Along the way we have this little game that we play.
“Who did this song?” he asks.
I lean back in my seat and listen for a few lines. More often than not I can tell him. Every once in awhile I get stuck, and since my hubby is ahem, a few years older that I am, he will often know the answer. I love his knowing look as he nods and gives me the name of the song and the performer.
At times I impress him when I am able to belt out entire songs, word for word. You have to know someone pretty well to feel comfortable enough to do this sober. Who knew all this was still in there? I call it my RAM, random access memory, the stuff l have tucked away that pops out from time to time. It’s just one of those fifty something moments when I can recite the entire lyrics to Maggie May, but will not remember where I put the car keys or my glasses. Maggie May, now there is a song for you. I can name that tune from just the first guitar chords.
Old radio hits can stir up all kinds of memories, some of them shared, some of them unique to our own experiences. Flashbacks from old rock concerts and reminiscences of music festivals in the rain wearing moccasins and frayed bell bottom jeans resurface. Nostalgia takes over as I recall listening to record albums in my parent’s basement until they pounded on the floor or yelled down the steps that the floor was vibrating, again. I was a particularly annoying teenager and loved to rock the house with ZZ Top’s, La Grange. This was a guaranteed floor shaker. I will admit that I had no idea what the song was about at the time. I only knew that it annoyed my mother with its rafter shaking guitar buzz. Sorry mom!
Faces of old friends pass before us in between the road signs with blue skies glowing overhead. Happy times both them and now, we tell stories and laugh over the time that so and so did this or that. With each melody we recall all modes of tacky dress and silly behavior after sucking down sweet sticky drinks like the tequila sunrise, the sloe screw, the salty dog, and the fuzzy navel. Well at least we all got our fair share of vitamin C!
As the sun begins to fade we look at each other and smile. Where did the time go we often say? I wonder, how did this young rebel end up in this old body with sensible shoes? Lots of twists and turns along the way have lead to this place. Even so it’s fun to let it all go for a weekend or a while. As far as getting older is concerned, I have just one comment. What happens on a road trip stays on a road trip.