Mountain Musings


Highway Star


Recently, a reader asked for advice on what he apparently considers a dilemma. I rarely respond to these sorts of requests; however, feeling a certain kinship with the reader, I sensed a need to dispel any notion that there’s something wrong or sinister about his perceived dilemma.


This reader, whom I won’t identify (let’s just call him “Eric”), said his wife recently caught him in the garage, talking to his car, and now she thinks he’s insane. Well, “Eric,” that’s nothing – the other day, my wife caught me talking to the dishwasher!


Actually, there’s a perfectly good explanation for this; I was issuing it a stern warning not to break any more of my stemware. I might add that ever since my admonition, there has been no reoccurrence of stemware breakage.


Of course, the missus has come to terms with this and considers it completely rational behavior, especially considering it’s me. And that’s not all, “Eric,” I too talk to my car, and she (the car that is) responds beautifully to me.


In fact, sometimes she (again, the car) talks to me as well, like the time I rear-ended another vehicle – by the way, it wasn’t my fault, they pulled out in front of me without signaling – and a voice came from the dashboard asking if I was all right and whether I needed help, which I didn’t; I just needed an insurance adjuster to total up the damage and a ride home so I could unwind with a cold beverage served in one of my stemware.


“Nobody gonna beat my car, she’s gonna break the speed of sound. Oooh, it’s a killer machine, she’s got everything, like a driving power, big fat tires and everything. I love her and I need her, yeah she’s a wild hurricane. All right, hold tight, I’m a highway star.” (“Highway Star” – Deep Purple – 1972)


I think talking to inanimate objects is quite common among us males, although the language used is often not very pretty – and can sometimes be unsettling to those of the female gender – so just be careful what you say and the way you say it. Now if you were talking to inanimate objects that aren’t even there, that’s where I would draw the line; then you might actually be insane. But I don’t think this is what we have here, “Eric.”


I know I’m not insane and I doubt you are either, so don’t lose any sleep over it. By the way, 20 years ago, someone driving down the road talking to themself might be considered crazy, but nowadays everyone’s doing it. Are they crazy? No, just talking to their Bluetooth.


“Nobody gonna take my girl, I’m gonna keep her to the end. Nobody gonna have my girl, she stays close on every bend. Oooh, she’s a killer machine, she’s got everything, like a moving mouth, body control and everything.”


Keep it flyin’, Uncle Mott