Have you ever heard a vehicle go by with the music blaring, and the bass so loud you can almost feel it?
Sometimes, I’ve wondered if these cars ever have pieces fall off after being rattled by the “boom, boom, boom.”
Do you find yourself curious about who is in these vehicles? Well, now, my oldest son has joined that crowd. Last week he purchased a sub woofer and amplifier for his car.
The next day, he asked me to go for a ride with him, so I could hear his latest purchase. I wasn’t immediately eager to do so.
“Come on Mom,” he said. “I’ll be going away to college soon. You can even count down the days now, and here I am asking to spend time with you.”
Of course, the guilt worked, and in the car we went with the bass a thumpin.’
First, a song by the band Nickleback was played to prove just how loud the bass was. I admit it was impressively, if not shockingly, thunderous.
Proudly, my son put in his new Motley Crue CD. We remarked onhow good the songs were and that it sounded like their older music.
Why is it that those guys can still be cool, still be rockers, and even impress the younger generations, and I have to be, just, plain old mom?
I suppose, since I am a mom, don’t play any instruments, and do not have a single tattoo makes me just plain old mom, doesn’t it?
But this boring ol’ gal rode down the streets, bass blaring with tunes by artists ranging from Rob Zombie to Rihanna. (Who is apparently, “hot” according to my son, which was way more information than this mom needed.)
Curious, I asked my son if he thought everyone outside the car could hear the bass. He responded with an ear to ear grin and nodded his head, “Oh yeah!”
As we went through town, there were three children on bicycles whose parents looked nervously our way, and I think the dad mouthed the words, “Watch out for that car!”
We decided to go to Wal-Mart in Buffalo, and when he got out of the car, his shorts were nearly falling off while he walked.
I do not, and never will, understand the reason behind showing all the world whether you wear boxers or briefs.
Informing him I couldn’t stand to look at this any longer, a belt was purchased right away.
While my son has been working for my brother, who owns Emery Construction in Dassel, he has lost some weight.
I doubt the low riders were intentional, and this is a relief because I am constantly complaining when I see a young man’s undergarments, and want to go pull their pants up for them.
Back in the car we went, with a belt, and once again the bass a thumpin.’
It was difficult to keep my head from banging to the beat, and if my son or I were singing along, you sure couldn’t hear it.
I sent out a text message to a few friends about “cruising” with my son and I realized something though I may not be getting any younger, I do know how to text, and I may not be cool enough to be a ‘rocker,’ but I can head bang. Not too shabbby for an old boring mom.
I looked over at my son who was loving every minute of his sub woofer, and I thought it was pretty awesome that we could enjoy it together. (Although about 45 minutes was enough for me.)
He looked at me, motioned for me to put my hand on the inside of the car door, and yelling over the bass asked if I could feel it shaking.
“That’s pretty cool, huh?” he asked, not really needing an answer. I nodded my head to the beat, with the bass a thumpin.’