"My friend the communist
Holds meetings in his RV
I can't afford his gas
So I'm stuck here watching TV
I don't have digital
I don't have diddly squat
It's not having what you want
It's wanting what you've got”
These aren’t exactly the words you’d expect to come out of the mouth of most three year old little girls. But they came out of mine. More times than most, my choice of toddler angry girl music, you ask? Sheryl Crow, with Bonnie Raitt at a close second. The cassette tapes filled my mom’s black Jetta, a bit beat up and dusty on the insides. Regardless, the speakers rocked, so memorizing the words served as no problem for this little girl. Music has always been a huge part of my life. As many would agree, car rides and music come attached at the hip. They are the Siamese twins of fast-paced memories with the windows down and a cool ocean breeze rolling through.
Music filled, and continues to fill, all of those spaces in my memories without conversation. They are simple smiling, top of your lung, energy-pumping moments of joy singing to whatever floated through the speakers. It, of course, wasn’t always sassy ladies moving through the music waves. Raffi also topped out my list. A classic guitar-in-hand, childrens singer/songwriter, his hit song “Baby Beluga” is something I still some times hum to myself in needed times of comfort. He was so fun and happy and proved that any song could lift your spirits, regardless of the way your day had previously been going. More often than not time in the car provided me an opportunity to show off. I loved to sing to the praises of my parents, especially my dad who liked to hum instead. It must have worked because in fifth grade I joined chorus and remained active in it all the way through high school. I was even a part of an audition-only acapella group.
Sunday mornings was a time when my dad and I always took a drive. We would go do different errands on his list and spend some extra time together while my mom had some time to sleep in and care for my little brother. Most of the time these errands were super fun and usually ended in some kind of sweet treat for me, but there was one place I dreaded most. Home Depot. To add fuel to the fire, a Sunday morning drive to Home Deport meant Car Talk was on the radio. Click and Clack, aka the Tappet brothers from Boston were on the air to answer any and all car-related questions. Repairs, weird noises, pricing, makes and models, the list went on and on. Wanting to spend that time with my dad meant enduring the wrath of these two obnoxiously loud hosts. I have memories of literally plugging my ears some time to escape the noise of their insanely similar laughter as they fed of each others engine jokes and at times, just plain terrible advice.
Once I heard the sweet, calming voice of Garrison Keillor, I knew I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. At this point on the car ride I was usually chalk full of ice cream or a huge Home Depot sausage from the cart out front, having survived the over-dramatized Hope Depot trip, and could barely even consider anything but a nap. Wrapped up in a twisty seat belt and my dad’s saw-dust laden sweatshirt, I let my eyes droop, allowing them to move with the bumps in the road ahead of us and eventually giving in, letting the sleep succumb my small body.
Media, for me, growing up was much less of a mind-suck than it is today. I didn't spend hours in front of the computer or television. I read books, I danced around my kitchen to Raffi's song Apples and Bananas, I thought being a princess was a realistic profession to sought after and I put ten black olives on all of my ten fingers on an almost weekly basis. Life was simple, no gadgets and gizmos. There wasn’t always the answer to everything the second you wanted to know it and people looked you right in the eye when you walked by each other, instead of their ears stuffed with iPods and their eyes looking down at their BlackBerry texting, emailing, instant messaging, tweeting, Facebook status updating and blogging about that guy who sang that Baby Beluga song in the good ole year of ‘95.
Photo 1. My cousin and I. PC: Shelley Ard
Photo 2. My girl Sheryl. PC: Google Images
Photo 3. Home Depot Sausage Cart. PC: Google Images
I'm currently a senior at UVM, majoring in Environmental Studies and Food Systems in the Rubenstein School. I spent last spring semester in Oaxaca City, Mexico studying Spanish and Food Systems and living with a host family. It was the most unforgettable experience of my life and I truly don't know where I'd be without it. It taught me so much not only about myself, but also about my place within this big, wide world of ours. Re-evaluation is crucial to happiness and Earth-grounding. 