Night Songs

I sing in my sleep.

Here I am, 55 years old, and learning something new about myself.

I called my sister for verification. Yes, she tells me, I sing in my sleep. I also talk, hum, and make odd noises. She thought I knew… but, how would I know what I do in my sleep if no one ever tells me?

I must be happy if I sing in my sleep. Maybe not… lately, I’ve been waking up Janis Joplin singing “take another little piece of heart now baby” in my head, but sometimes it is Stevie Nicks, Train, or the Black Crowes, could be any song but usually somehow reflects whatever is going on in my life at the moment.

Maybe I’m just humming or singing along to an audio memory in my sleep; not much different than humming or singing along with the radio jacked up while cruising down a highway.

Oh, do I miss my sweet baby, that Chrysler LeBaron two door coop convertible… hell, I miss that rusty old Bronco II as both those rides were fun to drive. My last car was a PT Cruiser. It was okay… but if I am ever able to drive again, if I ever buy wheels again, the top has got to drop. That’s just how it is.

IF? Now I’m dreaming. My ride these days is the WRTA bus on an E/D pass.

Reality bites… but, tell you a secret… you can choose the musical score for your own life.  What’s your theme? Got a background tune? What’s the soundtrack of your life?

It is YOUR choice… you can sing “woe, despair, and agony on me” along with the boys on Hee-Haw OR picks something that might actually help you get through whatever you are going through.

My personal favorite? “Roll with It” by Steve Winwood. Thanks for reading.

 

Auto-phobia

I am scared of cars. There.  I’ve done said it.
Rip up my old UAW and IUE-CWA union cards, I am afraid of automobiles.

To be precise, I don’t like to ride in cars.   I will do anything to get out of it… piss off my family, come up with all sorts of excuses of why I can’t go somewhere, when the truth to be told is that the mere idea of riding inside an automobile to get to Point A from Point B raises up a dread so fierce inside of me that I am fighting down panic until I figure out a way to get out of going.

There really is no good reason to have this phobia. Driving was always much better than riding, but I still did not like it. What kid drops out of Driver’s Ed? Waits two years before taking it again? I didn’t get my license until I was 18. Hey, at least I never buried a car in the back yard.  My great grandfather did that; dug a big hole and buried his Model T Ford out on the old farm.  He had auto-phobia, too.  Or, maybe it was a train phobia?  Word has it that he refused to drive over railroad tracks. I don’t know why he buried it.  Maybe he couldn’t keep it running?

CORRECTION: I got my great-grandfather’s confused. My dad’s paternal grandfather refused to drive over railroad tracks. His maternal grandfather buried a “Star Car” – not a Model T Ford.

I never trusted cars to keep running.  I was always afraid they would break down and leave me stranded.  Some did.  Even the convertible I bought thinking what I needed was a “fun” car to make driving more pleasurable broke down on me when I took it out of town.  Twice it left me stuck out on the highway, waiting on tow trucks to haul it in for repairs.  Around town, I was fine… drop the top and crank the tunes, oh yeah… as long I didn’t go more than five miles out of town, I could drive just fine.  People teased me about that convertible, told me that I only like to drive on sunny days when it was nice enough to drop the top.  They were right.  They just did not know the extent of my auto-phobia.

Should I tell the worst of it?

Now this will make me sound plum crazy.   Spirits roam the highways.  They are not all good.  I have seen the shadow of death. There is no other way to describe a black shapeless cloud that floats with a total disregard to air patterns.  When you see it, you know what it is.

In town, I did not have those problems.  The only spirit that talked to me while I was driving in town was the priest who shot himself in the rectory. He said, “pray for me, I’ve been shot” just after I parked on the side street by the post office in Warren.

1.5 x 6.5 inches... yes, a bookmark.

1.5 x 6.5 inches… yes, a bookmark.

My last car was an almost new Chrysler PT Cruiser.  Maybe I should have bought another convertible, but I bought a hard top in Cool Vanilla thinking it would be a “fun” car, too.  It had ye about 14,000 miles on it when I got it.  Three years later, when I had to give up driving due to disability, it still had less than 20,000 but then that last year really doesn’t count as I only put gas in the tank maybe two or three times.  It sat in the garage so long that mice chewed through the wiring.

Funny thing is, I miss driving. I didn’t want to give up driving because I always felt safer driving myself than I did riding with anyone else. I have absolutely no problem with buses, trains, and even airplanes.
I just HATE riding in cars.

Do you have any weird phobias?