I changed the CD in my carPosted on September 24th, 2007 after 7515 miles by Dean Croshere.
Since day 1, I have only had one CD in my car. The Red Hot Chili Peppers' newest album, Stadium Arcadium, disk 1. I only listened to it when I was first leaving a place or getting to it, and only then if I hadn't found a radio station when doing the same.
See, the iPhone likes to crash if you are listening to music, navigating, and downloading maps at the same time. At crucial turn making or music enjoying moments, having your map and music disappear can be very frustrating. Murphy is always present in electronics and if the maps and music are going to disappear, they are going to do it at a crucial turn making or music enjoying moment.
So I avoid this by hitting the CD button. I usually only end up hearing a couple songs in the short time it is on and I'm distracted anyway: driving and turning crucially and stuff.
Well, I finally got tired of the Peppers, so I switched the disk out. I put in Tool's 10,000 Days. A CD that never fails to make me think of a frat brother. One of the guys who is unendingly successful at getting on my nerves.
The story is set on the way back from a frat event. I was driving as usual, being one of the few guys with a working car. Throughout the event, he had insisted like a small child that we listen to this damned CD on repeat. The way back was no different. He whined until we put in much like I used to whine until mom put in the Sesame Street Oscar's Rotten Birthday tape, on repeat, for the 40th time in a row.
Fine, I do enjoy it, 10,000 Days is a pretty good album.
Then he insisted that we turn it up. I already had it pretty loud, but I relented. I also enjoy a really loud blaring (while driving down the freeway with the windows down and the wind in your hair) once in a while. It feels good to have someone else ask for it, to relieve me of the guilt of doing something so...unrestricted.
Towards the end of the first song, I glanced in my mirror to see if he was done, if I could turn it down.
I noticed he was tapping his leg and nodding his head, but entirely off beat. He was even mouthing the wrong words. This was between songs, there wasn't a beat to be off, no words to sing.
I had to take my eyes off him to pay attention to the road(imagine that). When I got a chance to look back, the next song had started, still loud.
I saw him adjusting his iPod.
He had his earphones in. He was still tapping and mouthing words.
The music we were listening to was loud, but apparently he had decided he was bored with it. Rather than telling us, or complaining until we turned it down, he had just put in his headphones and turned them up loud enough to hear over the music in the car.
The memory brought a smile to mind as I listened to the first song again. He can piss me off, but he is still a brother.
On another note, I'm still in Vermont with an extraordinarily nice family that is doing a wonderful job of taking care of me. (And they are reading this. I'm not above sucking up publicly). My car is in the shop, getting checked out to ensure that it doesn't blow up in the next couple of thousand miles. I'll still be in Vermont for at least two more days before I head around Maine and back down to Boston, NYC, and DC. The amount spent on gas should drop precipitously during this time, thankfully enough.