So, yesterday on my drive home, I decided I was not in the mood for the radio, and I put my Ipod on. The song that had been on the radio had reminded me of “Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance. That is the only My Chemical Romance song I really know and definitely the only one I own. Most of why I love it so much is it reminds me of “Come Sail Away” by Styx. After all, they both start off slowly, with piano, and then get faster after the intro. “carry on” is a phrase used prominently in both songs. I don’t know if Styx is one of MCR’s role models, or if they like the song, or if it’s all a coincidence, but I do know that both songs garner an emotional response.
Anyway, after playing “Welcome to the Black Parade,” I scrolled through my artists to decide on what to listen to next. I didn’t have to go far. Mumford and Sons. Perfect. I started them off on random, but decided I wanted to listen to their cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Boxer”. Read the rest of this entry
Maggie pushed her way through the gusting air back to her truck. The sand-colored vehicle stared at her as if to say “what took you so long? I’ve been waiting forEVER”
“Hush, you silly truck. I was only gone for a minute. You’d rather me pee in there than in you, wouldn’t you?”
Sandy just looked at her disapprovingly.
Maggie sighed and turned the key in the door.
After situating all of her possessions so that she could drive without something falling on her and could almost see out of her rear view mirrors, Maggie backed Sandy out of the gas station parking lot and started out on the road again. Moving cross country was so far not the adventure she had imagined.
As she waited at the turnoff for the freeway, a movement caught her eye. Off to the side, a plastic bag was drifting along, moving faster than the cars on the on-ramp. She had seen garbage on the side of the road for the whole trip. People’s inconsideration was really pissing her off.
Once on the freeway, Maggie unwrapped the sandwich she had bought at the pit stop and cranked up the radio. At least she had good company on this solitary roadtrip.
A yellow sticky note caught on the wind soared past her windshield.
Roadtrips and pool have something very important in common.
They both are full of innuendos.
Not that the average 20-something mind isn’t full of those anyway.
Anyway, I always blast my music pretty loudly in the car, especially on long trips. And pool is commonly played in bars, also accompanied by loud music.
But pool is played by a lot of people while drinking. And of course drinking and driving should never mix. Even on golf courses.
You can’t have a roadtrip without some decent snacks, and you can’t spend too much time in a bar playing pool without ordering some appetizers.
What other connections can you find?
One of my favorite stories to tell is my car history. My truck is very dear to me, and how I came to get him is quite an entertaining story. So, I’ve decided to relate the story in 3 parts, one for each car that I’ve owned. So I hope you have some popcorn and possibly a tissue box (ok, you probably won’t need one, but I did at the time.) Here’s part one; Come back the next two days for the rest of the story.
Like every teenager, I couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license and a car. Getting a car meant freedom. It also meant I had to get a job. But before I could even start to worry about that, I had to learn to drive. Read the rest of this entry