A faux pas in the school parking lot

Long-time readers of this blog may remember my posts about embarrassing things that have happened to me. I call them my Hall of Shame. I really don’t see what’s wrong with asking your handsome chiropractor to show you again the exercises he wants you to do daily. It was nice watching him do them the first time, and since they involved bending over, when he asked if I ‘got all that’, I lied and told him no. And asked if he could please do the first two exercises again?

He looked like George Clooney. And although I don’t condone lying, I do condone saying yes to something pleasurable. As long as nobody gets hurt, you know?

I’ve also written about my star-spangled underpants and the subsequent emergency room trip as a teenager, farting in that same handsome chiropractor’s face, and a former boss who had a wrap-around skirt that didn’t have quite enough fabric.

All these posts can be found [here], if you’re that interested.

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Well, this is yet another embarrassing situation for me and I’m writing it here because I enjoy making fun of myself. Besides, it made my husband laugh out loud when I told him this afternoon.

This morning, as I was coming down the road that leads to school, the radio station I was listening to queued up an old tune from the Allman Brothers Band, Southbound. If you’ve never heard it before, there’s a link to YouTube, but let me warn you, the song is almost 10 minutes long. It’s a classic Southern rock ballad and when we were young, my husband and I absolutely LOVED the Allman Brothers. My husband saw them play in ‘73 at Watkins Glen, along with the Grateful Dead and The Band. (We started dating in ‘76).

I have good acoustics in my Honda Element, so I cranked it up, turned into the long driveway to the prestigious private school where I work, and let the music overtake me.

When I finally pulled into my appointed parking spot out back, parents were dropping off their children in car line and teachers were arriving and getting out of their cars. I left the car running so I could hear some more of the song and maybe it was because I was feeling so good, maybe it was the fantastic memories the song brought back and maybe it was because it was just damn good music, but I totally. Rocked. Out. To. this song.

I played the air drums on my steering wheel. I rocked my head back and forth, and I’m sure I looked like an insane person but I didn’t really think anyone was looking. And for some crazy reason, I didn’t think anyone could hear how loud I was playing my car stereo.

And then, there was a knock on my window.

I jumped! It was my co-worker, Rich, who handles car line in the morning. He opened the door and was laughing at this point, and asked me if I was ok.

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I was so embarrassed. I got out of the car and parents were waving, co-workers were laughing, my friend Rich was telling them that he thought I was having some sort of seizure because, you know, I’d been in the hospital a couple weeks ago. Maybe I was having an attack of some kind.

I am usually very ladylike and I never rock out to music in public. Well, not anymore, but this song just took me back and sounded so damn good in my car that I wanted to listen to it just a little longer.

I think it’s my haircut and color. Because it really does rock.

Yeah, that’s probably it!

Until tomorrow, my friends . . .

PS ~ Thanks for all the wonderful comments on my husband's (er, George's) photography yesterday. If I read him some of the comments, he'll get all embarrassed, and we can't have that.

Rock on.