Guitar!

We were driving in heavy traffic on the 91, heading out to our beloved RobMag's house for a big celebratory barbeque. Jeffy sat in my passenger seat, My Pablo was behind me in the back, and The Mighty G was by his side. As the Jetta inched along, we worked hard to keep our spirits high. Everyone was marveling at the distance between RobMag and us, and with every revolution of the wheels we became increasingly aware of the fact that what should have been an hour-long trip could very well take four more hours.

I had to remedy the situation and raise the spirits in the car. We had already listened to Pablo's serial killer jokes, and Jeffy was starting to get political (as usual). The G was moistening her lips, preparing to let loose with an onslught of mean, loud, and shrill declarations. I sensed that this was starting to get ugly. We had no food, and there were no gas stations on the side of the road to escape to. Luckily, no one had mentioned the bathroom at that point. But something still needed to be done.

I put in my "Lovely Day for Rockin'" mix. It starts off with Poison, and goes into AC/DC, Joan Jett, Boston, Journey, and Def Leppard. This effectively calmed the car, giving us something to laugh at, sing to, and discuss on a deep intellectual level (oh, like you haven't wondered about the "Cougar" in John Mellancamp's name and its mysterious disappearance. Yeah, you are SO much better than me).

Pretty soon, the traffic started to close in on us again. We were getting to know the people in the cars surrounding us. We were also wondering if just jogging there would be faster. And none of us are runners. You get the idea.

When I thought we were out of steam and the trip might come crashing down around us, The Darkness came on the stereo. "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" blasted out of the speakers, and I decided that I was going to sing it at the tip-toppiest volume my voice could muster. For anyone who doesn't know, that's pretty damned loud. So I am singing. I think Pablo was singing as well, although I couldn't hear him. Jeffy was giggling so hard his face was turning red, and The G was just embarassed for me, so she started rummaging around in her pockets and avoiding my gaze in the rear view mirror.

I glanced into the backseat and saw that The G and Pablo were divvying up those magical little pills that make rock concerts a religious experience and work just that much more tolerable. Their eyes locked. They opened their mouths, and in perfect unison, their wrists snapped and the pills launched down their gullets. It was truly a sight to see.

And then, as though the magic was there for all of us, the song erupted into the hand-clap break. And without making eye contact or discussing it beforehand, each one of us in the car began clapping along in that familiar steady rock and roll kind of way that the Darkness does so well. We were smiling, singing, and clapping as though our lives depended on it. And in a way, I guess it did.

The best part of this moment of brilliance were the cars surrounding us. They weren't inside to hear the wonder and merriment that is The Darkness. All they saw were two people in the backseat of a green Jetta popping pills, followed by everyone in the vehicle clapping their hands in unison. Then, they were laughing uncontrollably for the next five minutes for no apparent reason. To all our friends in the nearby cars, it appeared as though the inmates were driving the asylum.

To those of us inside the car, though, it was clear what had just happened. Sometimes you are blessed with moments that prove that you are, without a doubt, surrounded by good friends.

my heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel. g