OH DEAR! WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN TO CRUISING?

Now that the price of gas is over $4 a gallon in the States, and about $1.35 a litre in Canada, what is going to happen to that staple of North American car culture – going out for a drive? For as long as I can remember, that’s been one of the most pleasurable activities life had to offer. Ah, the freedom of the open road. Back in the ‘50s, when I was very small, we spent summer vacations with my grandparents in the U.P. (Upper Peninsula of Michigan), and would take a long leisurely drive upstate. And once or twice a summer we’d all pile in the car head out of Detroit and drive to Howell for its famous cantaloupe melons. Of course, we could have bought them in the grocery store, but we always packed a picnic and made a day trip out of it (back before the network of expressways expanded into the ‘burbs, that was pretty much a given anyway). Then later, when I got my own license, I took naturally to the world of teen cruising. Talk about having no particular place to go! My girlfriends and I made the rounds of the drive-ins, or just plain drove around seeing what there was to see. Somebody had a cottage at the lake; we were on the way! When I went away to university in Kalamazoo, I drove in my mother’s old hand-me-down Valiant. With my own set of wheels, I could come home for the weekend any time I wanted. Okay, maybe that one wasn’t a huge priority…but you get my point.

These days, everyone is effected, but the ones I really feel sorry for are the teens. We could quickly be entering a time when the fun of aimless cruising around with a car full of your school pals will no longer be the rite of passage it once was. But the situation could have even more far-reaching effects. If this dark looming future comes to pass, what will become of road songs? Will anyone still be inspired to write them? Can you imagine a world without the Beach Boys “I Get Around”? Or Bob Seger’s “Roll Me Away”? Or even Marvin Gaye’s “Hitch Hike” (‘cause you ain’t gettin’ a ride if nobody’s out there drivin’). Just think about the hundreds of cool songs that are yet to be written. Who will climb in behind the wheel, turn the key and write another classic? And we haven’t even begun to consider the road movies yet. They too are a much-loved part of our shared experience. There could be some lean times ahead!

Still, bad as that sounds, things may not be completely hopeless. We just have to reinvent the road song. Find the musical equivalent to bunching your shopping necessary trips together, and finding routes with less traffic, fewer left turns and stoplights. We need to think of road songs in a different, energy saying way. I think we even have a few oldies that we can build on.

Melanie, Brand New Key
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKJO8Sy0ugQ
This one went to Billboard #1 in Dec. 1971, back in the day of plentiful, relatively cheap gas, and quad rollerskates. I used to have a pair of those key-operated skates. They were really heavy and cumbersome, but once you got up some speed you could sure make sparks fly going down the sidewalk.

Fats Domino, Walkin’ to New Orleans
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lICk_uPAPfg
A great little road song of sorts, written by Bobby Charles for Fats, who had a hit with it in 1960. Bobby was a big fan of the Fat Man. When they met in Lafayette, Fats invited him to come visit him at home in New Orleans. Bobby told him he didn’t have a car, and if he did visit, he’d have to walk there. Then he turned that thought into a song.

Well, there you go. I hope I haven’t brought everybody too far down with this. Here’s one more song to leave with you on a happy high note. It’s a later one from the Beach Boys, with a great YouTube video – a real tribute to the internal combustion engine!

Still Cruisin’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVdKHktiy8I

KISMET - THE STORY OF A GIRL AND HER CAR

Those of you who have read my book, Papa Do Run, may recall a section about car songs, and the significance of cars to baby boomer teenage culture. Teens nowadays may think it's the same thing, and I'm sure cars are important to them, too, but not like they were to us. For one thing, kids these days have social lives completely unknown to their parents; they come and go as they please (often in their own cars) with so many more places to go. Plus they seem to have a lot more money to spend when they get there. Back in my day, cars ("borrowed" from our parents) were just about the only place we could be, if briefly, on our own, away from parental supervision. All we needed was to scrape together some change for gas. In a car, we could finally be ourselves, hang out with our girlfriends, cruise around and check our trap line of drive-ins. Or be with our boyfriends, who were all driving their parents' car. I can only think of one guy I knew in my high school who has his own car. It was a sweet little red 'vette, and because he was the older brother of one of my best friends, I occasionally got a ride in it. But it never occurred to me to try for a car of my own. And by the time I grew up and went out into the real world, and did acquire my own wheels, I somehow never drove anything cool. It's been one long boring series of beaters, minivans, and pickups. Even when I reached the age when most people have their mid-life crisis, I didn't go out and buy myself a sporty car. But then one day, when I was in my late 50s, I was talking with a neighbor, and everything changed. That day, quite by accident, I learned that my neighbor was buying a vintage Mustang. And he wasn't keeping it for himself, either. He was just going to buy it and flip it. To make a long story short, he flipped it to me. As soon as he told me about it that day, I knew instantly that this car was meant for me. Here's the amazing details.

My pony rolled off the assembly line in Dearborn, Michigan in 1965, the same year I graduated from high school, in Detroit. Maybe even on the same day, who knows. The Mustang was designated for Ford Canada, so it immediately crossed the border and began its journey westward. A few years later, I too crossed the border and began moving west. Eventually, the Mustang ended up in a charming little place called Saltspring Island, in British Columbia, and I ended up in High Country, in the Alberta foothills, near some neighbors who also spent time on...Saltspring Island. So that is how I knew we were meant to be together, my little pony and me. I mean, think about it: we both made journeys over many miles and many years, far from our common point of origin, finally to be reunited at long last. And recently I moved from Alberta to Ontario, not far from the Windsor/Detroit border. Maybe one day I'll take it for a drive by the old Ford plant, where it all began.

Well, there you have it, the whole heart-warming story. Didn't it just about make you tear up? Okay, maybe not. Whatever - now it's your turn now. Give us the scoop on your best/worst/weirdest etc vehicle.

p.s. The color is that distinctive Mustang shade officially called "Poppy Red" but I refer to it as "Go-To-Hell Orange." I've named the car (yes I'm one of those annoying people who give names to their vehicles!) The O.C. (as in Orange Crush). The music I played on my first official drive was the Beach Boys, "Don't Worry Baby," my fave oldie. Probably should have been some Motown, now that I think about it.