Oh, I have such fun with this. I drive an 8-year-old minivan that has its share of dings and scratches and squeaky brakes. It’s definitely not a cool ride. It has a Depeche Mode window decal on the back window that undoubtedly gets chuckles from some, and waves and open-window shout-outs from other cool people. But aside from being a total mom car (and there’s nothing wrong with that), it has killer speakers. Not the kind that pump out so much bass it bends the windows of every house in the neighborhood for several blocks, but the kind you can blast loud enough to get some attention if you’re driving with the windows down. (Well, I have to when it’s hot. My A/C is broken!)
I don’t do this often; I do, after all, have my hearing to look after, and I must be doing a pretty good job since I can still hear those mosquito tones that supposedly only teenagers can hear. (It hurts!) But sometimes when I’m driving through the shopping center parking lot across the street from the high school during lunch or after school, I can’t resist playing one of the following songs, because their confused expressions as I’m cruising past are so amusing. I guess it must look odd seeing a mom in a minivan listening to something crazy. (By the way, this little joke didn’t work when Lia was in school and I’d drop her off or pick her up, because they knew me. “Oh, that’s just Lia’s mom.”)
Okay, so I’m aware that some of these songs, or even just the act of listening to loud music with the windows down, automatically makes me 20% less cool to teenagers, which might not be the best thing when you write for that age group. But I’ve discovered that the coolest teenagers are the ones who embrace their own inner dorks, and who aren’t embarrassed by the wacky antics of a total goober mom. (I love Lia, Emily, and their friends!)
Next week I’ll have some more music for writing to share, from an unexpected source.