Memory Lane

Fending Off a War

When I was young and my family took long trips in the car – all trips seemed long to little ones. Some were 2 hours and some up to 5 hours depending upon conditions and traffic. Piled into a nine-passenger station wagon and off we’d go. A trip to the beach, or to our grandparents in Massachusetts or relatives cast far beyond on farms in Pennsylvania.

Our parents practiced “discipline by distraction” before it was even a thing. To pass the time and to mainly keep us from killing each other in the back seats – fighting for space and territory – we’d sing.

We’d sing at the top of our lungs. We had quite the repertoire. My dad was in the Glee Club in college, and we knew his entire program. We’d sing it from start to finish. It began with Shine on Harvest Moon and ends with St. James Infirmary.

Then there were the old standards from the popular composers’ songbooks at the time. Some children’s nursery rhyme songs from our home. The patriotic songs of the war’s era before like Yankee Doodle Dandy. Add into that the folk songs like This Land is Your Land – and hootenanny tunes from Pete Seeger and friends. We’d warble. It was lively.

There could be sprinkled in some carols or hymns. We kept adding tunes to test our vocal cords. The trip would fly by driven by our desultory delivery. It brought us glee. And we’d all arrive in one piece.

My particular favorite was when we’d pull into a tollbooth. Now this was way before the days of EZPass. To pay a toll in those days, you’d have the car stop at the booth and hand money to the toll taker.

We’d arrive and everyone would yell in tune, “Hi to the Guy in the Tollbooth!” Then in three-part harmony we’d sing Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi. Again. Hi!

And the most fun was to take in the reaction of the guy in the tollbooth which was always stunned. We got such a kick out of that. And no one minded we were stuck on a toll road. More guys to sing Hi to in the tollbooth.

It’s the holidays and I’m being driven by my granddaughter to a family celebration a distance away. On the highway, I was hoping we could sing carols and our old “road” songs. She was mainly interested in listening to the playlists she’d devised on her phone patched into the car’s sound system. Amused by my story of my younger years singing in the car, she simply pressed “Play”.

I complimented her on her choice of music and asked her about the artists. She likes the female singer songwriters with clear voices and life’s deeper messages. OK, so we didn’t sing in the car like I’d hoped. I did get to listen to her, learn about new artists, and enjoy her tastes.

My walk or song down memory lane was just that – loving old times in my mind.

Happy holidays everyone.