When I lived in London, I owned a silver Mini Ritz with a brilliant sound system. During the summer holidays, I would take my daughter to work with me as I had a colleague with a girl of the same age and they would play together at her house, which was just down the road. That meant Ellen and I would spend hours every week driving from Twickenham to Fulham and back.
At the time, cassette tapes were in fashion and I would record songs from my favourite albums for the car. As most of you know, I’m a huge Joni Mitchell fan and, on one particular hot day in August, I’d been singing along to ‘Court and Spark’ when we hit a jam. I forgot the windows were open as I merrily jazzed along to ‘Twisted’. I was suddenly aware of frantic slapping on my thigh. Ellen’s face was bright red as she pointed to my window. There, in the car next to me, sat two men in business suits, in stitches at my Joni impression.
those heady dog days
hippy blues and mini cars
longing to be free
Kim M. Russell, 2017
Toni is our host today. She says it is getting to be the kind of weather when she drives with her windows down and the CD player cranked up, singing at the top of her lungs. She asks how many of us also crank up our sound systems to sing along with favourite songs?
Toni wonders if we ever had another motorist look over at us in consternation or better yet, with a thumb up, played sad songs and cried, played defiant songs, played dancin’ in the car songs – I’ve done all that and embarrassed my daughter in the process!
Toni would like us to write about singing along with our music and driving. Off on a trip, off on vacation, soothing ourselves, just driving at night, driving out anger or grief – as long as we keep the haibun classic (no poems or “westernized” writings) with one paragraph and a haiku – not a senryu, or three line micropoem, or American sentence.