2 December 2019
My first car was a Ford Pinto—you know, the kind that blew up if rear ended—and I got ripped off buying it from a friend whose dad was a used car salesman–Classic. But it was my first car and I had it for six or so years. It had some funny features or non-features as the case may be. The horn was a toggle switch, quite illegal I am sure. At one point a friend crashed it but it was still drivable but seriously dented in the front. The starter could be random but luckily my university was on a hill and it was a standard so compression starting here we go. The relevant non-feature for this blog was the lack of a radio.
I was reminded of this two ways recently. One, a discussion about first cars. Second, last weekend my car broke down and Leah was kind enough to allow be to use her truck while my car was in the shop. She listens to the radio—rather loudly in fact—and I do not want to mess with her settings so I have left it off.
A bit of history on me and radios/media in the car. I used to walk everywhere from kindergarten through college, even after I had my car due to a frequent lack of gas money. I never owned a Sony Walkman and think wearing earplugs or headphones while walking around people is rude anyway. I stopped listening to the radio in high school—the reason I know very little about pop music after Earth Wind and Fire—because I really dislike other people telling me what I should like—sometimes, sadly, a self-destructive tendency I really have not lost. Then the advent, my second car, and the CD/tape deck that allowed me to listen not only to what I wanted but books on tape!! Now I listen to a lot of books on tape—ok fine, CDs/audio books in the new vernacular—and I have gotten into podcasts since my new car has Bluetooth and I know how to use it—hah, so there.
All of this to say my commute is an hour so there is lots of time to think without using a radio. In a lot of ways I have missed this from my walking days and my first car’s lack thereof. The wandering thoughts. As I frequently do I go back to Blaise Pascal: “Silence. All human unhappiness comes from not knowing how to stay quietly in a room.”
In my walking days I did calculations of distance based on average step length and tempo—band geek warning—of course the tempo was 120 beats per minute. I love Sousa marches. I also thought about and observed the surroundings. I made up stories and played with words. I thought philosophy, religion (a sub-category), science, and literature. I came up with theories on ideas and “why” questions were explored. Ok, I admit, I also read books when it was not raining and daytime.
I still think about all of these topics but less often because there is little silence. I walk rarely and at a dirge tempo now it seems. I do not turn off the books on tape in my car very often and just think. My brain still constantly runs in the background and usually keeps me awake at night contemplating these subjects and work issues.
So what is the point? Silence, thinking, contemplating, debating with oneself (and others) are all important and they can only be done without media to keep us from them. I miss those days when I walked and thought—miss both the walking and the thinking in fact. I guess that is it; no new year’s resolutions or promises to turn off the media. Just a nostalgic wish I, and we, would.
Hark 