I’m that jerk that pulls up next to you at a stop light, music blaring out of every open window, including the sunroof. I’ve got a loud enough muffler on my car, as well. Used to be, there’d be a puff of cigarette smoke pouring out of the driver’s window, too. Terrible lane-neighbour, I know.
Now that the sun is finally showing face out here in Toronto, I can’t turn up the music loud enough while I’m zipping all over town during the day. And zip, I do; I can’t get anywhere fast enough in this city. Even when I’m early.
I’m hoping to put my summer tires back on my car this weekend to help with traction. It’s one of those “manly” pleasures that I seek with the coming of each spring. Plus, the car just looks better with them on. (When I bought the tires, the guy told me that they are nice looking tires. I laughed at him then. He was right.)
All day, you can hear me telling children to quiet down. “Hands on top” (they reply by putting their hands on their heads and calling back, “That means stop”). Turning off the lights. Counting down. “Clap ‘n’ times if you can hear me.” Clapping a pattern, and waiting to hear it clapped back to me. Raising my continually-strained voice over the noise of children having fun with each other at school. And, the pièce de résistance, waiting them out; just waiting for the students to be quiet; it’s fascinating to watch them tell each other to quiet down.
I’m now purposefully soft-spoken when I go about my business outside of school, except when I’m with my friends.
With the sun rising ever higher into the sky, I just want it LOUD outside of school. Just, give it to me. I want it all. Hypersexualized. Cursing. Deep, heavy bass. Country. Sade. Not so much Thom Yorke, though.
I tried wearing contact lenses yesterday so that I could wear my sunglasses while driving, so I would look a little bit cooler. My eyes dried out by about 11 am and everything was blurry until I got home and was able to change them out for my spectacles.
So, here, to take you back a bit, and for a chance for me to walk down memory lane, is a song from the opening band of the first concert that my sister and I ever attended: Britney Spears. It was glorious. We bought trinkets with the money that I had earned working at a dry cleaners. We liked the opening band so much that we bought their CD. Janet Jackson cancelled her concert for a couple of months later, which we also had tickets for.
Steps covers the Bee Gees’ Tragedy (it should sound fine through your laptop speakers):