Saturday morning found me setting out on my DC trek. I left at 10:30am, and long story short, it took me seven hours to get there. Normally, it’s a four hour drive…. and when I am able to drive like a total maniac, it’s a three and a half hour drive. Traffic on the Turnpike was a little bad around the shore exits, but around 7A, it cleared up and I made it to Delaware in good time.
I had started off the ride listening to Johnny Cash. “Folsom Prison Blues” was my song during the bar exam, and “Ring of Fire” is a good song to wake up to as you drive. Then I turned it off for This American Life. You know, it was bad enough that This American Life was dreadful this week (the theme was animals, but it was very disappointing) and that Car Talk cut out because I was too far south.
Then disaster struck. Route I-95 South was shut down due to an accident. SHUT DOWN. It took me about an hour to go three miles. Word to the wise? When the Maryland State Police tell you to take a detour, don’t listen to them. I took the Route 896 to 40 detour which was a complete waste of time as it was completely backed up and plopped you back in the midst of horrible gridlock on 95. I have decided that in the future, it may be worth the exorbitant money to fly or take the train to DC.
The traffic caused me to miss my appointment at Aria, where I had made my appointment one freaking month in advance and the bitches refused to squeeze me in at another time. They’re lucky they make nice bridesmaid dresses, because otherwise I’d write them off.
So, given my rageaholic status, you can imagine that sitting in traffic on Saturday started to make me a little crazy. The best way for me to combat road rage is to listen to very loud, preferably moody or grumpy music.
When I found out that 95 was shut down, I popped on My Bloody Valentine, Loveless, which did the trick for a little while (thanks for the loaner, Phil). Then I switched over to Jimi Hendrix. When I was 17, I went through a phase where I only listened to Hendrix for months. I have only pulled out my Hendrix in the last month or so, but I’ve really been enjoying it. And for the record, yes I sang along in the car, yes I drummed, and yes, people were laughing at me as they drove past. I don’t care. Anything to keep my head from exploding in traffic.
I also read up on Jimi while driving (or rather, sitting in traffic). I started off with “Hey Joe,” on which Jimi sang for the very first time. Apparently, he really hated his voice. He also created the walking bass line for that song, which is my favorite part. Other interesting tidbits? “Foxy Lady” is probably about Mrs. Roger Daltrey (aka Heather Taylor), and is the only song Jimi ever wrote when he was in a happy mood. “Fire” was literally inspired by Jimi’s desire to warm himself by bassist Noel’s mama’s fire, and “Manic Depression” was inspired by his manager’s quip during a press conference that he seemed rather manic depressive.
When I was again able to drive at a normal speed, I switched over to Basement Jaxx and Underworld. All in all, I’d say my idea worked well – when I finally arrived at Kate’s I was tired, but calm.
Kate had her gorgonzola spread and a cold martini waiting. One martini, and two eps of Chappelle’s Show later, I felt much better.
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