The Fine Art of Car Dancing

I may not be considered a great dancer in the traditional sense, but I am an EXCELLENT car-dancer.

You know the kind--those souls to which music is like air and who can't help but sing along while their favorite songs are playing. Frequently accompanied by rhythmic motions of one kind or another.

My personal fav move? Banging the steering wheel. Or the gear shift stick. Or the side of the car if it's nice out and my window is down.

Now that I primarily take the bus to work, I find that I enjoy being in my car when occasion finds me there.

Even traffic can't get me down very often, especially since my 7-mile commute is laughably short when compared with my first year working in downtown Minneapolis. My first year I still lived at home and it was a 50 mile commute--one-way! No thanks. I barely survived that year, and I do not know how my momma did it for so many years. I was just thankful that I could swipe a ride in with her and blissfully sleep away the morning drive in her passenger seat.

I LOVE my little plastic car. It's a Saturn Ion and I love to joke about the plastic side panels and lightweight construction, but as I watch gas prices soar close to $4/gallon I am thankful that it is a lightweight plastic toy (despite the fact that it makes it vulnerable to frakkin' raccoons).

It was my first brand-new (not just new to me) car purchase and it had several selling points to recommend it.

1. 4-doors, electric windows, AC, On-Star!
2. It's a stick! (I pride myself on being a Chick with a Stick. Plus, good or bad, this means my husband is extremely reluctant to drive my car.)
3. Sunroof (I was spoiled in my last car and was determined to get a car with a sunroof that opened all the way again).
4. It was green. (Green's my favorite color and I was excited to get a green car because then I could name it something cool, like Kermit or Booger, since Goober was the name of my last car so it's fitting).
5. It had a built-in CD player/stereo with an MP3/audio input connection.

I love many things about my car, but perhaps the one thing that I am most thankful for (other than great gas mileage!) is that teeny-tiny little hole that allows me to plug in my iPod and play whatever music I want.

Thus ensuring that on any given day you see me in my car, you'll also see me flailing around, bashing the steering wheel emphatically, bobbing my head and possibly foot-stomping (if said feet are not required to be shifting/braking/accelerating).

The car is a zone of peace for me, a place where I can sing aloud at the top of my lungs to all my favorite songs. This is important, because I'm a TERRIBLE singer who freely admits it, even while mourning my complete lack of any type of musical talent whatsoever. I wouldn't want to subject anyone to my singing voice unless I really, really dislike them (or you volunteer me for karaoke at a bar without my knowledge).

Being able to beller away at the top of my lungs in privacy is important, because I'm sure that without this necessary release, I would burst into spontaneous song at work and then they'd really think I was weird (if the collection of Dune-related art on my walls along with various cat pictures didn't already make them lean that way).

Who am I kidding? I was once caught chair-dancing (a close cousin to car-dancing) by a coworker. Not that embarassing, except I was listening to Lady Gaga at the time!

It drives the Big B nuts, because while he is passionate about many things, he doesn't have the same obsession with music that I do. In his car, the radio is permanently turned to *gasp* TALK RADIO. Not just any talk radio, but SPORTS TALK RADIO.

*shudder* I'll get over it soon....

But he hates when I'm in a musical mood, because while I'll tone down the singing to spare his tender ears, nothing can stop me from a-moving when the beat is talking to me.

This most certainly makes me less of a safe driver than others, but I do try to make up for it by being courteous.

I come by it honestly. My entire immediately family are all big music lovers. Saturdays were spent cleaning with my mom and sister while Madonna's Immaculate Collection blasted in the background. I grew up watching my mom dancing in the kitchen to the music (always played LOUD) and I learned how to thump the steering wheel from watching her rock out to some Pearl Jam when driving me. My dad had invested in a nice stereo receiver and large speakers before I was born and the entire house was wired so that music could be played in every room, including the porch out back.

As a family, we didn't always agree on musical choice, except our unanimous agreement that country music shall never step foot in our door (I don't consider Johnny Cash country although I know some do).

We did always agree, however, that music was to be enjoyed, and enjoyed loudly.

So when I find myself in my car, I happily plug in my 'pod and scroll to whatever music flavor of the day I'm craving. I have a "Bellering" playlist specifically for those instances when I feel the need to howl along to my favorite songs.

Somehow, no matter what kind of playlist I make, one song always makes its way onto it. It's the one song I never get sick of, no matter how many times I hear it. I could listen to it every day for the rest of my life and never tire of it.

Warning: This video is not for the faint of heart.

 It was the last song played at my wedding and EVERYONE came out on the dance floor. I would have been mildly disturbed to see my parents grooving to Trent Reznor's moody and vulgar love song, except that I know in my heart they both enjoy a good song. Dad was smiling and my momma enjoys NiN (evidenced by the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to with her and my Bonus Dad).

So if you're in the Twin Cities area and see a booger-green Saturn Ion and a brunette head furiously bobbing to a beat with arms akimbo, pounding the side of the car door with one open palm, say hello and give a thumbs up if you approve.

Or give her room. Your choice!