We’ve been on the road so much lately, I can hear Willie Nelson serenading us from the back of the car. I love seeing people, doing interesting things and being in the driver’s seat. My brain is so much more creative out on the open road. I could solve half the world’s problems if I only had a machine to record my deeply profound thoughts. (Lois, I know my phone would do it, but I’m not good with those apps and can’t remember my apple password.) And I never think of it until I’m driving. Oh, the solutions that come to mind! I can’t recall even one.
Our car journeys have begun to resemble our lives. Because we live so far from everything (all northern readers, please join me in a deep sigh) we bring too much with us. For reasons I can’t share (in the interests of my marital future) our car resembles one of those overloaded buses you see in India. I’m a tiny part of the problem. If he disagrees with this, my hubby can write his own blog. (hahah…it’ll never happen!)
I have a friend who never eats in her car. Her life is attractively minimalist, but in a very put together way. If she ever died in the woods, she’d have on the perfect outfit, her hair would be done, and all the animals would leave her carcass alone out of deep respect for her togetherness. ‘Namaste’ they’d whisper quietly, and skirt around her. She’s that kind of woman.
I am not. My car is a reflection of the way I move through life. There are no chicken bones littering the floor, but I have a tendency to bring big lunches, many different coats, and much footwear, everywhere we go. (Damned climate change. We used to be able to count on a cold winter.) My husband also brings too many things. I swear he had a pair of winter boots with us in Houston. He complains about the big lunches I pack, but I’ve noticed him enjoying them later.
I’d like to try paring down a little on the over preparation. Like, I always have to leave my house clean in case I die while I’m gone. People have told me that this is tempting fate. Apparently, the grim reaper is always waiting around the corner. And I’m saying, ‘come on in and, please, bring your scythe.’ But I’m a nah nah, boo boo kind of person. It’s another way of saying, ‘I defy you, stars.’ That Shakespeare…what a show-off.
My husband and I have a pretty good travel relationship. I’m not much help as a navigator, but I excel at spotting danger. I just wish I could do it in a more composed fashion. This last trip, he was changing lanes, and a car coming onto the highway didn’t notice. I started screaming a bad word over and over again. It would have been better if I’d shouted, ‘Horn! Horn!’ You know. To let him know what action to take. He managed to swerve in time, but I still felt bad about all that swearing. Being the passenger can really take it out of you.
Another thing we agree on is what to play on the radio. We like CBC. It’s only when we lose the signal that we switch to music. We’re both in love with Leonard Cohen’s latest album, “You want it Darker.” To that title I say, “Yes, Leonard, I do. And how did you know?” It’s the perfect music for troubled times, and perversely, makes me feel better about everything. I’m kind of mad that he’s dead.
Same with Stuart Mclean. So, dear Leonard who art in heaven, please. Look him up. He’s a fairly new arrival, and he’ll have you feeling better in no time. Get him to tell you the story of Dave going through the carwash while riding on top of the car. Or the one where he and Morley stay in the wrong cabin and do major renovations. Two Canadian icons gone, just when we need them the most. (Long moment of sadness.) Now, back to my theme.
Car journeys, aside from the great music and CBC radio, provide some big AHA! moments for me. Like, my life might be easier without so many jackets. Or I’ll think of a great twist for my latest novel. Other times, I’ll come up with the best plan, EVER, to save the world. Seriously, it’s on the tip of my tongue. And, if I find a way to record that revelation, I’ll be sure to write about it. Watch for future titles such as, “Polar Bears Saved…All is Well!’ Or, “Peace on Earth at Last!’ Something along those lines. You’re welcome.