On Driving Through Cities Without Panicking

I have discovered that the best way for me to drive through traffic -- say in New Orleans or Houston or Phoenix -- is to sing along very loudly with Broadway showtunes. And I mean very, very loudly.

I think it distracts me enough from panicking, although Oesa may disagree. Before I started driving in Phoenix today, she said, "It's going to be trafficky. Lots of construction. You can drive if you want, but no freaking out."

I don't freak out; I merely hyperventilate and try to choke the steering wheel. I find that I feel more in control when using a death grip. Perhaps steering wheels should come with a stress ball section -- you know, one very squeezable part. I think that would greatly decrease cases of road rage.

But no panicking for me today. I put in a CD my friend Katie made for me just for this trip -- Kamiah's Sing-along Soundtrack, Vol. 1. Yes, I also have Vol. 2, but that wasn't necessary today to get me through Phoenix.

"Good Morning, Baltimore" from Hairspray and "Shy" from Once Upon a Mattress and "America" from West Side Story. Those songs are right in my range and they all make me feel like a girl who can conquer anything, including narrow lanes in a Phoenix construction zone.

Later today, we were on Hwy 177, which I think is competing for the loneliest highway in America. No Broadway showtunes necessary there. It's just a 2-lane road that skirts Joshua Tree National Park, and if you close your eyes (which of course I didn't, seeing as I was driving), it feels like a very long roller coaster. Not a loopy one, more like those slightly bumpy ones you could ride at carnivals when you were little, the ones where you rode in a car with a dragon head.

For Hwy 177, I thought something more along the lines of quiet desperation was appropriate, given the giant swath of land laid before us. There's nothing like a huge view to make you feel angst-y and aware of your smallish-ness.

Thank heavens I have an entire playlist that really could and should be called "For moments of quiet desperation and angst." It's actually called "Woe to those who get what they want," a reference to an obscure short story I read once.

And now we're in Joshua Tree, CA, and I think a day where you can combine singing Broadway and being pensive is precisely what vacations are for. Or maybe that's only in my little world.