Back in the day, your car was a great place from which to "showcase your cool," especially during the spring and summer. Driving around, windows rolled down, sunglasses on, hair blowing back, cool tunes emanating from the stereo. The music was a broadcast - "check me out, cute guy stopped next to me at the light."
Of course, I was always slightly hampered in this endeavor by the fact that I drove a 1978 Toyota Corolla station wagon that only had an AM radio. However, I could blare all the "golden oldies" - thanks, 1600 WINX - that I wanted. I attracted my share of stares, but I'm not sure they were for the reasons I intended.
When I got rid of the Corolla (and then the 1983 Toyota Tercel station wagon, then the 1988 Honda Civic hatchback with no paint on the hood), I was older, but still indulged in the "car cool" game every now and then. I particularly liked driving around in Tad's 1993 Acura Integra hatchback, sun roof open, windows down (actually, the Integra has a "moon roof" according to Tad, but I have no idea how that could possibly be different from a sun roof). I'd hang my arm out the window and play my favorite upbeat, funky music - Missy Elliot, Cake, Mos Def. I was cool, carefree, living my life.
Flash forward, present day.
The car is a goldish-brown Mazda Protege sedan (not my favorite color, but it was $500 cheaper than our preferred color, and frugality trumped style). There's a dent on the back bumper from when I backed into a truck in a junk yard in the Outer Banks (a story for another time), which is now particially covered with a magnetic "Jazzercise" bumper sticker. Sticky finger and palm prints cover the back windows, and the car hasn't been washed in...well...ever.
So there I am, driving around, windows down, sun beating down on my arms, music playing. Pull up to a stoplight. Look over to my right at a cute young guy who has his "car cool" game in full effect. He's got his windows open, arm hanging out, sunglasses on, seat leaned back. He's bobbing his head in time to the hip-hop music that's coming from his car.
And me? I respond to a request from the back seat to turn up the music (so that ours can be as loud as the car next to us). And there I am, car cool game in full effect. Sunglasses on, windows open, arm hanging out. The cute young guy looks over at our car. From the back seat, a request: "Mommy, SING!" And so I look over at cute young guy, match his stare, and start to sing:
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, won't you come-a come-a come-a, put my n-n-n-n-n-n-nightlight on."
Ohhhhh, yeah.....NOW I'm cool.
Of course, I was always slightly hampered in this endeavor by the fact that I drove a 1978 Toyota Corolla station wagon that only had an AM radio. However, I could blare all the "golden oldies" - thanks, 1600 WINX - that I wanted. I attracted my share of stares, but I'm not sure they were for the reasons I intended.
When I got rid of the Corolla (and then the 1983 Toyota Tercel station wagon, then the 1988 Honda Civic hatchback with no paint on the hood), I was older, but still indulged in the "car cool" game every now and then. I particularly liked driving around in Tad's 1993 Acura Integra hatchback, sun roof open, windows down (actually, the Integra has a "moon roof" according to Tad, but I have no idea how that could possibly be different from a sun roof). I'd hang my arm out the window and play my favorite upbeat, funky music - Missy Elliot, Cake, Mos Def. I was cool, carefree, living my life.
Flash forward, present day.
The car is a goldish-brown Mazda Protege sedan (not my favorite color, but it was $500 cheaper than our preferred color, and frugality trumped style). There's a dent on the back bumper from when I backed into a truck in a junk yard in the Outer Banks (a story for another time), which is now particially covered with a magnetic "Jazzercise" bumper sticker. Sticky finger and palm prints cover the back windows, and the car hasn't been washed in...well...ever.
So there I am, driving around, windows down, sun beating down on my arms, music playing. Pull up to a stoplight. Look over to my right at a cute young guy who has his "car cool" game in full effect. He's got his windows open, arm hanging out, sunglasses on, seat leaned back. He's bobbing his head in time to the hip-hop music that's coming from his car.
And me? I respond to a request from the back seat to turn up the music (so that ours can be as loud as the car next to us). And there I am, car cool game in full effect. Sunglasses on, windows open, arm hanging out. The cute young guy looks over at our car. From the back seat, a request: "Mommy, SING!" And so I look over at cute young guy, match his stare, and start to sing:
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, won't you come-a come-a come-a, put my n-n-n-n-n-n-nightlight on."
Ohhhhh, yeah.....NOW I'm cool.
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