By MARY FYE
GLASGOW — Kids — even, or especially, young teens — can become annoying on long car rides. Heck, even I can be annoying on a long drive. But what if the most horrible road trip is a mere 25 minutes in length? And what if you are certain that you all have to repeat this terrible trip countless times more?
As a kid, I spent a great deal of time in a car. For almost all of third and fourth grade, I rode in the back of my parents Gremlin and then a K-car back and forth from Gamaliel to Lexington. Up on Sunday, back on Friday was our weekly routine. To my adolescent mind, these trips took far longer than three hours. Even so, I don’t remember being too bothersome.
My daughters have made a few lengthy car and plane trips, with various levels of success. Oddly, the older they get, the more difficult these trips become. I worried last Sunday that we had reached a new level of aggravation. Steve, Erin, and I drove from the family building in Gamaliel to my parents’ home in Flippin. This was no more than a 10 minute drive, and it had already driven me to rip out some of my own hair.
Although I originally wanted to blame Steve, it seems that it indeed was Erin’s fault. She had this idea to attach a sound effect to various road conditions and features. Straight, plain old road was given the “leedle-leedle” sound that babies often make. This sound began as soon as Steve started the engine, not stopping until we reached Flippin.
Other roadside features elicit other sounds. Shade on the road was met with a wheezing breath. Mailboxes were noted with a screech. Curves were enjoyed with a scream not unlike the over-the-falls one in the introduction of the “Land of the Lost” TV series. Passing a car on the road was met with riotous, Spongebob laughter.
How long could a kid keep this up? I’m sure this is on your mind. Well, Erin started this the minute we left Gamaliel and did not stop until we reached Flippin; yes, an entire 10 minutes of driving with the added dimension of sound effects. The road is excessively shady and curvy, so she actually had a difficult time making sure every nuance of the drive was captured by her voice.
But this was not to be the end of this game. Oh no. This was just the warm-up — the sound the orchestra makes before going into a full symphony. You see, the drive from Gamaliel to Glasgow takes about 30 minutes, and Erin was determined to do a better job on this trip.
No amount of threatening would dissuade her, especially since she was supported by her father and sister. I worked on lesson plans for the first 15 minutes of the drive, concentrating so forcefully on my notes that I soon became carsick. Nauseous and irritated, I muttered something like, “Please hyperventilate” in mock seriousness. As soon as the words were out, I felt guilty. Quickly locating a paper bag (just in case), I gave up and listened to the raucous sounds emanating from the back seat.
As we got closer to Glasgow, there were no signs of letting up. In fact, Erin had to work harder to give voice to all the cars and mailboxes we passed. Extra long curves became operatic in nature, and splotches of alternating shade and light left her sounding asthmatic and tongue-tied.
In the end, she made it. I made it. As she exited the van, her final words were aptly spoken: “Wow. I didn’t even pass out.”
