I hear all the time that New York City is one of the loneliest places on Earth though there millions of people traversing the streets at all hours of the day and night. I understand the rationale of being surrounded by the masses yet never speaking to a single soul. However, I would venture that driving in Los Angeles is worse. At the very least, while I’m walking through any city I have the option of talking or interacting with my fellow pedestrians.
This weekend was the first in a long line of weekends that I had a car to myself. A friend was out of town, and I was given keys to a beautiful Honda Fit. The freedom of the open road was at my fingertips ready for me to go anywhere or everywhere that my heart desired. Though I only ended up taking the car to Long Beach to pick up some furniture I bought from a guy on Craigslist, I was reminded of the one thing I miss about driving a car: musical therapy.
I cannot carry a tune to save my life, but sometimes a little musical therapy is required (and I much prefer it to retail therapy). Speeding on an semi-open highway with the windows slightly ajar and a song blasting that describes how I’m feeling at that very moment is the perfect time to belt out a tune. Have a Rachel Berry moment. Close your eyes, though only for a second as driving requires you to be aware and responsive to the other cars around you, and really sing out that chorus. There is something relieving about complete freedom in the car. Sometimes that is the only time I get to block out the world around me. It is the single loneliest and yet most meditative place for me.
It’s unfortunate that singing while walking would classify me as being off my rocker while singing in the car is completely normal. My fear of public ridicule and also my understanding that singing in the presence of others may not be a pleasant experience for anyone involved has kept me from succumbing to musical therapy while walking. However, I’ve definitely had my moments when the music takes over and I start humming a tune and walking to the beat.
Never say never. I don’t mind a few strange looks in my direction. Maybe musical therapy for a pedestrian is still possible.