TheBanyanTree: Thump, Thump, Thump

[Sally Larwood]

Thanks for the drive, Monique.  I really enjoyed it.

Sal 

-----Original Message-----
From: thebanyantree-bounces at lists.remsset.com
[mailto:thebanyantree-bounces at lists.remsset.com] On Behalf Of Monique Colver
Sent: Saturday, 17 April 2010 8:44 AM
To: A comfortable place to meet other people and exchange your own
*original* writings.
Subject: Re: TheBanyanTree: Thump, Thump, Thump

I still turn my music up loud in the car. I have to, because, if the
weather's nice, I like to have the windows down. That, and I'm delaying
fixing the fan/air in my car because the money for it is sitting safely in
an account and I like to look at it. If I spend it, I won't be able to look
at it and think, "Gee, I'm glad that's sitting there in case I need it."
When it starts getting hot I'm sure I'll decide to go ahead and spend it.

Today I was returning from lunch with two of our esteemed members, and I was
stopped, peacefully, at a red light. I was looking around for something, as
I tend to do because I'm so easily bored, when my car lurched forward. At
first I thought that perhaps there was something wrong with it -- it's old,
and has issues from time to time, like all of us who are aging. Then I
looked in the rear view mirror and realized the car behind me was way too
close for comfort. In fact, so close was she that she'd rammed into my rear
end. I could see there was a little old lady driving.

The light changed, and I ventured to the right, and then, since it was a
busy boulevard, I turned right, and stopped half a block up. I turned on my
emergency flashers and got out of the car. Little old lady was getting out
of her car, and she looked so distressed I just wanted to run up to her and
put my arm around her and ask her if she was okay.

But she had run into my car, after all, so instead I just walked up to her
and slugged her.

Okay, that's a lie. I'm not quite that awful a person.

She began apologizing, and explained it was her damn cell phone. Perhaps she
didn't say damn, but her expression telegraphed it quite efficiently. She'd
been trying to get it out of the pocket of her fairly fashionable jeans
while stopped at the red light. This can be a tricky maneuver, as one must
move one's leg, which could result in one letting up on the brake if one
isn't careful. And one was not careful this time.

"You've got to be careful with those things when you're driving," I said,
"They're dangerous!"

Normally we're warned about using them when driving as being dangerous, not
necessarily retrieving them from our pockets, but it all works out the
same.

We looked at my back bumper, and we looked at her front bumper. Her car was
newer, and unscathed, as far as we could tell. My car didn't look any more
scathed than usual, so I told her it was quite all right, and that sometimes
accidents happen, but let's just to be safe out there. I asked her twice if
she was okay, because once people get to be, well, older than me, they
become terribly fragile. I myself will never become that age (older than
me), a fact I take great delight in.

I'd hate to see the little old lady get banged up because she was retrieving
her cell phone, an item she isn't legally supposed to be using while
driving, so I cautioned her against texting and driving. She left smiling,
which is handy when you've run into someone.

Since I'd turned I was off course, so I continued on the road, then took a
right. My random driving method means driving in the general direction of
where I'm going with the hope that somehow it'll work out. Sometimes it
works, sometimes not.

This time, not so much. I quickly found myself headed up a mountain road,
which I thought quite amazing since I'd just been in Portland seconds
before. I passed by a large Bible school campus, then went up a winding
road. There were old stone walls at the side, something which always
delights me because, well, they're old. The road became narrower, and the
drop off was quite a drop off, and so I continued up. Since my windows were
down I could hear birds chirping and doing their birdly things. By this time
I'd turned down the ultra loud alternative rock. I just wanted to see what
was at the top of this hill, and it was such a nice drive. I passed a runner
headed up the road, with a black lab at her side. Off to the left I could
see the freeway, and landmarks. I reached the top, and there was what looked
to be a large radio tower, surrounded by old moss covered walls. People were
parked to look at the view or the old moss covered walls, I'm not really
sure, and I drove around in a circle, and was then faced with a choice of
several roads to go back down. Or at least I think they went back down. I
headed back down the way I'd come, and enjoyed the trees overhead.

I've always loved driving down roads with trees overhead. I'm quite fond of
trees and have often thought of adopting a few.

I passed the runner with the black lab. She was still heading up, and the
dog was trotting along slowly beside her, his pink tongue hanging off to the
side.

I came back down into the city, and turned my radio back up a few hundred
decibels (how much is a decibel? I should know this but, strangely enough,
don't.) I headed back home, my windows down, the air rushing through my car
like a mini-cyclone, and life was good.

All of which is irrelevant, isn't it?

On Fri, Apr 16, 2010 at 1:19 PM, Russ Doden <russ.doden at gmail.com> wrote:

> There is a car in the parking lot in front of the building I'm in.  The
> driver leaves the radio on for his passengers while he goes in to the tag
> agency next door.  The radio is playing Latino music.  A strong low
> frequency beat with a higher pitched mass of voices doing the Spanish
> speaking vocals emanates from the car.   It isn't much of a distraction,
> but
> it is noticeable.  The song ends and another song takes its place.  The
> passenger turns the volume up.  I can clearly hear the music inside the
> shop
> where I'm sitting.  No one seems to pay any attention to the "sounds"
> radiating from the car.  I find myself starting to get a little on edge.
>
>
>
> Soon the driver comes out and the car leaves leaving a noticeable quiet in
> the parking lot.  Not for long though.  Another car pulls in, also with
> speakers pumping out sounds.  This time it is rap with a strong "thump,
> thump, thump" vibrating from the car.  I can't understand the lyrics but I
> can hear the voices of the rappers.  The sounds continue on, getting
louder
> and more annoying.  I think they are only annoying because of the
> vibrations
> that are produced by the strong base line - "thump, thump, thump".  Soon a
> group of young people are standing around visiting.  In order to hear each
> other, they have to speak loudly.  Then someone turns the volume of the CD
> player in the car up even louder.  "THUMP, THUMP, THUMP" with a mash of
> noise mixed in - every once in a while a word will be clearly heard
through
> the base line.  As often as not, the words heard include obscenities.
This
> is music?  I guess to some it is.  Soon a patrol car swings into the
> parking
> lot, just making its routine rounds.  The radio gets turned down
instantly,
> the group scatters and comparative silence returns to the parking lot.
>  Once
> again I can hear traffic on the street and the voices of children whose
> parents are getting something done next door.
>
>
>
> I am left sitting and wondering, "Am I getting old?"  Way back when, back
> in
> the 60's, I played my music loud and I'm sure annoyed the people in the
> area.  I still like to "Crank it up" once in a while at home or sometimes
> even in the car.  Not so loud as to drown out the sound of sirens on
> emergency vehicles but still much louder than necessary.  I usually only
do
> hat for one song though.  Two at the most, then it gets turned back down
to
> a comfortable level.
>
>
>
> What happened to my love of playing "my" music and listening to the
"thump,
> thump, thump" that went with it?  What happened to the young man that
> enjoyed going down the road with the windows open, radio blaring the
latest
> Beatles or Doors, or Iron Butterfly, or Santana, or whoever I was into at
> the moment?  When did Celtic music replace hard rock?  When did Classical
> music replace "acid rock"?  When did I change?   I can't really fault the
> people for listening to their music.  I did the same thing - and often
> heard
> "Turn that noise down" from the oldsters.  I refuse to be an oldster.  I
> may
> be getting older but I refuse to be one of those who can't remember their
> own days of turning the radio up and listening to the "thump, thump,
thump"
> vibrating through my body.  I just have to remind myself to not get upset
> at
> what they enjoy listening to  I don't want to be one of he "old people"
> that
> get upset like the old people did when I was young and I was listening to
> my
> music.
>
>
> --
> Take things one day at a time
> IF that is too much go 1 hour at a time
> If that is too much, go 1 minute at a time
> Miracles come one minute at a time.
>



-- 
Monique Colver