Moves like Mick Jagger

By Linda Petersen
Posted 9/21/16

My daughter, Marie is in a residential school out-of-state. I often have to drive the hour and a half for a school meeting or to pick her up. After spending my childhood zigzagging across the county, I hate to ride. The only way it is enjoyable is if I

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Moves like Mick Jagger

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My daughter, Marie is in a residential school out-of-state.  I often have to drive the hour and a half for a school meeting or to pick her up. After spending my childhood zigzagging across the county, I hate to ride. The only way it is enjoyable is if I am sleeping, and it is hard to sleep and drive at the same time.

Talking books on tape, (because our van was invented before CD players) used to keep my attention for the ride, but they are getting harder and harder to find. Inevitably the books are three and a half hours and the van returns back home after 3, so I don’t get to hear the ending until the next day. By then, so much drama has happened in my own life that I can’t weed out the real drama from fiction, so the ending of the book is moot.

Music has become my new listening alternative.  Not just any music...noooooooo.... only the rock music of my youth; “Proud Mary,” “Sweet Caroline,” “Born to Run,” “Papa was a Rolling Stone.” Of course, when I hear this music, my body can't help but "dance" to the beat and my mouth has to sing along; loudly, badly and with enthusiasm. The fact that the location is in a van somewhat limits my moves, but not altogether.  While driving down the straight highway at 55 miles per hour, (the fastest the van can manage,) and alternately swinging and waving my arms in the air, tapping, kicking my left leg, twisting at the waist, moving my shoulders, bouncing up and down in the seat, I shimmy with great veracity in time to the music. This new driving routine is loads of fun, helping to both pass the time and exercise!  I am not the least bit self-conscious so the stares and horn beeps from others don’t bother me. Reality comes into play every time a tractor trailer truck drives by because our seats are at the same height. I am sure that the driver is mortified at the sight of me as I am no substitute for the sexy young woman for whom he was looking, but what sexy young woman would be driving a huge old rusty van anyway? What was he thinking?

As the fall approaches, I still have some time to sing with the windows down. Most people have air conditioning and thankfully (for them) their windows are closed and the buzz of the air conditioning drowns out the caterwauling coming from my van. If they don’t use their peripheral vision, they will never see me. I will be so busy doing my "moves like Mick Jagger" on the highway to see you. However, if you happen to see a somewhat older woman, hair wild and windblown, clumsily climbing down from the seat of a very old, high van, and she has skinny arms, a skinny left leg, big butt and plump right leg, smile and wave because that would be me.

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