road trip, anyone?

Just came from a short road trip to partake at Gibo’s mom’s 70th birthday in his brand, spanking new home in Cavite. There’s something about being on the road, on the move, just seeing the scenery pass you by while you listen to the voice of Aimee Mann cautioning a new acquaintance not to pick on her when “an act of kindness could be deathly.”

Listening to music and being on the road has always been a twin pleasure for me. Even my one-hour-each-way commute to my most recent place of employment was made enjoyable by my trusty Zen player. The murky waters of Pasig took on an almost van gogh-ish sheen as i looked from the train on my way home.

I remember solo trips I made just to visit friends in La Union and Baguio. With my battered walkman and an ample supply of batteries and cassette tapes, being on the road felt like home. I would imagine situations where the bus would suddenly lose a tire or heavens forbid get hijacked. After a brief check at the levels of my walkman’s energy juice and a quick grope for my reading material and cross stitch stash, I heave a sigh of relief knowing I’d be able to survive the ordeal no matter if it extends beyond a day.

Right now, I’m listening to Wilco’s new album, Sky Blue Sky and I have this sudden urge to be on the move. It’s like the music is more magical that way. Naalala ko tuloy, several years ago when I was still driving. One of my best moments was driving (carefully) Buddy’s gray box type while listening to Pulp Fiction’s soundtrack. Badass!