Drumming with my Honda

Sorry to be away for a few days. I was having my eyebrows waxed for a new play I’m 'starrrrrring' in. I won’t bore you with the usual Wednesday 10 today.

This morning marked day 3 of listening to Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” on my way to work. I am currently obsessed with this song, because it has this really slow build that’s perfect for emotionally surviving morning traffic. And when the eerie instrumental section begins, and that high-hat filtered through delay/echo starts popping right before the band joins in, I break into some serious air drums, which usually frightens anyone beside me at a stoplight. I try to remain reserved in these moments, until the light turns green, but it’s often difficult depending on what’s playing. Once the car is in motion, if you ever see me driving, I am playing my Honda like it’s some kind of sonic machine.

I suppose I should explain how this works:




The car horn casing makes an incredible pop if you slap it just right (gross), and doing so will give you the perfect snare drum. A fist to the bottom of the wheel (ick), six o’clock, is the ultimate base drum, and you need air fresheners for cymbals, dangling from the rearview. The occasional floor tom / snare combo—for moments in songs like “Welcome to the Jungle,” that beginning part right before the melody for the 1st verse kicks in—is difficult to pull off. I would recommend a bass drum / tom combo, keeping your hands at 6 and 2 o’clock. I mean…safety comes first.




It’s one of those little things about me that is beyond embarrassing, especially if I forget that I’m driving with passengers and unconsciously break into beats. This will ALWAYS happen during the following songs, and if we ever drive together, I apologize in advance:

“In The Air Tonight” – Phil Collins: I’ll be completely reserved throughout the song, and I usually light up a cigarette, which seems to burn down to the filter right as that climactic drum fill kicks in before the last chorus—ugh, it gets me every time.

“Sunday Bloody Sunday” – U2. Sometimes I’m seriously worried I might break the horn casing from the intense marching snare drum that drives this song.

Anything by Metallica is a recipe for disaster. Things end up broken.

“Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen – The middle instrumental section before “The highway’s jammed with broken heroes...” is responsible for snapping the strings attached to every air freshener that ever hung from my rearview mirror.

“Jack and Diane” by John Cougar. That tinny but brilliant drum fill before the bridge kicks in “Gonna let it rock…let it roll…”

“Dyer Maker” by Led Zeppelin – This is probably when I’m the most cocky (gross again). Because that song is so driven by slow, precise drum fills between verses that I ingested as a child. It’s sort of like, look what I know how to do, but nobody really cares but me. LOVE IT!

And finally, “Stairway to Heaven” by Zeppelin since, let’s face it, you get the best of both worlds here. The best part of that song is waiting for the drums. Then when you’re all settled in, the guitar solo takes over, which leads to a whole other set of car/guitar options—but that’s another blog entry.

Mel is throwing up right now reading this, or maybe packing my things. I think she secretly resents my car drumming. Or just thinks I have issues, which, for the record, is entirely true.