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jbelluch from Flickr

Photo credit: jbelluch from Flickr

[I’m probably on a plane en route to Nice, France at the moment. But I scheduled this little travel related post to hopefully keep you entertained. Next week, I’ve got a special treat lined up for you with guest East Coast bloggers filling in for me while I get a little R&R. Until then, here’s a post about a travel experience during my youth that left me scarred musically.]

When I was growing up my family was all about the road trips. We saw most of Canada and the continental United States of America by car.

It was torture.

When we were younger, my sister and I went through the whole whiny “she’s brushing up against me” phase where we couldn’t even breathe the same air without there being some kind of issue. Then my sister had bouts of car sickness for a while that allowed her to sit up front with our parents. And even though that helped us get through our quibbling, it brought on another element of torture.

Here’s some non-numerical math to paint a picture for you:
Stench of vomit + heat – air conditioning + rolled up windows = a car full of nauseous unhappy campers.

Plus, we weren’t the kind of family that played car games. We had to maintain silence for the most part so our dad could “concentrate on driving.” The only thing that got us through our long trips were things like reading, writing, and music.

In high  school, I got my first Walkman which I happily brought along on our last family road trip to Quebec city. I only had a small collection of audio cassettes at the time but I didn’t want to have to listen to whatever lame talk radio station my father would invariably tune into. Of the collection that I brought I can only remember two, but they provided a life lesson about music that I have not since forgotten.

And that is: some music is timeless (e.g. the When Harry Met Sally… soundtrack as sung by Harry Connick, Jr.) while others are not to be repeated in an endless loop during an eight hour drive (i.e. Stone Temple Pilots’ album Purple).

To this day even groups that remind me of STP get under my skin. And whenever I hear one of their songs, I feel like my ears are bleeding. In fact, I don’t listen to the local radio stations on the off chance that they might play something by them. Well, that and I’m of the mind that too much pop music makes the brain explode…ella…ella…ella…Thanks Rihanna for making me shudder every time it rains.

So, there you have it. My musical tragedy. What kinds of things have you done that you’ve regretted while travelling?

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