January 10: Driving country roads
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia,Mountain Mama
Take me home, country roads
So sang John Denver on his 1971 album, Poems, Promises and Prayers.If my childhood had a soundtrack, that song would be on it. John Denver was one of my family's favourite singers and his music was a popular choice for the 8-track tape player in my dad's minivan. Every summer meant another week at the grandparents' cottage near Jackfish Lake or their farm in Rosetown. It was about a seven-hour drive that took us from our suburban home in southwest Calgary to the prairie paradise where my mother grew up, rural Saskatchewan.
The sojourn included several urban paved roads – Hooke Road, 12thStreet, 89th Avenue, Elbow Drive, Southland Drive, Deerfoot Trail. Eventually, those roads would take us out of the city and into the country. We defined the country as “where there are farms and there aren't buildings and where there are cows.”
The highway would take us into Saskatchewan and then the minivan would turn on to the roads that weren't as well maintained. This told us that we were getting close. I remember a train crossing and a golf course that told me we were about 10 minutes away from my grandparent's farm and the big house that always smelled like puffed wheat cereal.
When we got on that dirt country road, I knew we'd be there in a minute.
*
I am no longer a kid. I am a newspaper editor. The road I travel the most is probably Highway 34, which can, in theory, take me anywhere in North America. If I want to go to Cornwall, Ottawa, Montreal,Toronto, Calgary, New York City or Paraguay, chances are I'll have to get on to Highway 34 first before branching away.
Highway 34 is currently maintained by the United Counties of Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry, headquartered in the City of Cornwall. The town where I live has about 3,000 people in it. I am not sure if I consider Highway 34 a country road or not. I can see it right now from the window and there's a bit of traffic waiting at the red light. Not exactly what you'll see if you google-image country road. But tell you what, friend. Go north or south on Highway 34 for a few minutes and the kid in me will tell you it's a country road.
Why?
Because there are farms.
And no buildings.
And cows.
*
Cows.
My grandfather never had cows on his farm. He used to have chickens but that was a long time ago, before I was born. For as long as I remember, he raised cash crops.
I just read a story about a cow from Maine who was born with three spots that looked like the silhouette of Mickey Mouse's head. Some Disneyland representatives traveled to Maine to look at the cow. They even bought it (though, reportedly, not for a large sum) and brought it to Disneyland where, apparently, it became the most famous cow of all time. Its name: Mickey Moo. She died in 1993 at the age of 11.
The lesson is that if you're a cow and you don't want to be a hamburger,make sure your unique markings remind someone of a Disney character.
*
There are some country roads I won't drive.
This one New Year's Eve, I drove up a mountain of a country road that had about five pot holes per metre. I thought my poor car was going to have a hysterectomy. I've steadfastly refused to drive that road ever again. If I have to go up that mountain again, I'll take a bus.
Thankfully,the country roads near where I live are more tame.
*
I don't know how old I was or even where it was. All I knew is I was driving a country road somewhere and something just propelled to pull over and get out.
I did.
It was late summer. There was a tree nearby and it was sort of shaking a bit in the breeze. Most of its leaves were green but there was this little bit where they were orange. There was a wheat field nearby and I could hear the wind rustling through it. I also heard grasshoppers jump around. I sniffed and the air smelled like mud and rain and summer.
I got back in my car and drove on. Soon I was back in the city. I went downtown, parked my car, got out and listened.
I saw a building with graffiti on it and a garbage can that was overflowing. I saw an apple core and an empty bottle of Orange Crush in the gutter. I saw a 7-Eleven and a teenaged kid smoking a cigarette. I heard someone screaming profanity at someone else. I heard traffic. I heard a stereo in someone's car play a song about having a house full of hos. I smelled garbage and car exhaust and decay.
I think I learned my lesson.
*
John Denver's message was that happiness isn't something in the faraway future, something we can only attain if we try real hard and give stuff up. He said that happiness is all around us. In the wind, in the sun, in the sound of the wind in a wheat field. What more do we need? What more can we take with us?
*
John Denver's life wasn't all sunshine and roses. He was divorced twice, was charged with drinking and driving and appeared in Oh God with George Burns. He was also denied participation in USA for Africa's 1985's pop-anthem, We are the World, because organizers thought his wholesome image would hurt the credibility of the song. Cyndi Lauper was part of USA for Africa. That probably tells you everything you need to know.
John Denver also joined forces with Frank Zappa and Dee Snider, lead singer of the 80s hair-metal band Twisted Sister, to speak out against the Parents' Music Resource Centre's 1985 effort to put warning labels on music albums. He said it was censorship but he also took time to complain that his song Rocky Mountain High had been ripped from many radio stations because people assumed it was about drug use.
Mr. Denver said the song was about the natural euphoria you experience when you visit the Rocky Mountains. I grew up near the Rocky Mountains and I can tell you Denver knew what he was talking about. In Spades.
From Rocky Mountain High:
He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below
He saw every thing as far as you can see
And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun
And he lost a friend but kept the memory
Now he walks in quiet solitude the forest and the streams
Seeking grace in every step he takes
His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand
The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake
And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
Talk to God and listen to the casual reply
Rocky mountain high
That's one of the best things John Denver has ever said. It's better than Thank God I'm a country boy and much much better than “I think I'll go flying today.”
But there's a reason people censored Rocky Mountain High. John Denver said it was because those people had never been to the Rockies before and could not appreciate what he was writing about.
Actually, the reason was much simpler: they were morons.
*
Memo to Kristin, who gave me the title to this note: I think your favourite part of this rambling little freewrite will be the juxtaposition of the two out-of-vehicle experiences in city and country. Of course, you could be a huge John Denver fan, which would be kind of cool. I dunno, reading this note makes me think it's more about John Denver and not so much about country roads.
But that's probably okay.
*
The song Country Roads isn't so much about country roads as it is the euphoria one feels when they come home after a long day. For John Denver, who spent weeks and even months on the road, returning to the family farm was probably so overwhelming that it made him cry.
For the record: The farmhouse near Rosetown has been sold as has the cottage near Jackfish Lake. I don't expect I'll ever visit them again.
I have not been to Calgary in 15 months, which is a long time to go without a sojourn home.
I live in a small apartment. About nine years ago, someone told me that I wouldn't be there long, that I'd probably find a house some day and settle down.
I am still in that apartment.
There are days when I feel like I have no home.
*
So let's pretend it's summer. Like Roxette said: "Hit the road out of nowhere, had to jump in my car." Yeah the sun is shining bright in that blue and cloudless sky and I'm gonna roll down all the windows and put my favourite music in the stereo and turn the volume up as high as I want. Got a bottle of cold Dr. Pepper in the cupholder beside me and dude, I am gonna drive drive drive. I want to go fast. That's what summer is about.
Here we are. Country road. I'm driving it and there's a cloud of brown dirt-dust flying behind me. On either side of me are sunflower fields, bobbing a little on the wind, looking like praying ladies.
Put your sunglasses on. Don't look in the mirror though. It'll just tell you you're getting old.
And I drive past a family of scarecrows that someone put by the roadside. A sign nearby tells me that the Williamstown Fair kicks off in just three short days.
Gotta smile now. There's gonna be a Ferris wheel there and who knows? It may just bring back a memory.
To the place I belong
West Virginia,Mountain Mama
Take me home, country roads
So sang John Denver on his 1971 album, Poems, Promises and Prayers.If my childhood had a soundtrack, that song would be on it. John Denver was one of my family's favourite singers and his music was a popular choice for the 8-track tape player in my dad's minivan. Every summer meant another week at the grandparents' cottage near Jackfish Lake or their farm in Rosetown. It was about a seven-hour drive that took us from our suburban home in southwest Calgary to the prairie paradise where my mother grew up, rural Saskatchewan.
The sojourn included several urban paved roads – Hooke Road, 12thStreet, 89th Avenue, Elbow Drive, Southland Drive, Deerfoot Trail. Eventually, those roads would take us out of the city and into the country. We defined the country as “where there are farms and there aren't buildings and where there are cows.”
The highway would take us into Saskatchewan and then the minivan would turn on to the roads that weren't as well maintained. This told us that we were getting close. I remember a train crossing and a golf course that told me we were about 10 minutes away from my grandparent's farm and the big house that always smelled like puffed wheat cereal.
When we got on that dirt country road, I knew we'd be there in a minute.
Smells like mud and summer.
*
I am no longer a kid. I am a newspaper editor. The road I travel the most is probably Highway 34, which can, in theory, take me anywhere in North America. If I want to go to Cornwall, Ottawa, Montreal,Toronto, Calgary, New York City or Paraguay, chances are I'll have to get on to Highway 34 first before branching away.
Highway 34 is currently maintained by the United Counties of Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry, headquartered in the City of Cornwall. The town where I live has about 3,000 people in it. I am not sure if I consider Highway 34 a country road or not. I can see it right now from the window and there's a bit of traffic waiting at the red light. Not exactly what you'll see if you google-image country road. But tell you what, friend. Go north or south on Highway 34 for a few minutes and the kid in me will tell you it's a country road.
Why?
Because there are farms.
And no buildings.
And cows.
*
Cows.
My grandfather never had cows on his farm. He used to have chickens but that was a long time ago, before I was born. For as long as I remember, he raised cash crops.
I just read a story about a cow from Maine who was born with three spots that looked like the silhouette of Mickey Mouse's head. Some Disneyland representatives traveled to Maine to look at the cow. They even bought it (though, reportedly, not for a large sum) and brought it to Disneyland where, apparently, it became the most famous cow of all time. Its name: Mickey Moo. She died in 1993 at the age of 11.
The lesson is that if you're a cow and you don't want to be a hamburger,make sure your unique markings remind someone of a Disney character.
I like to moo-ve it
*
There are some country roads I won't drive.
This one New Year's Eve, I drove up a mountain of a country road that had about five pot holes per metre. I thought my poor car was going to have a hysterectomy. I've steadfastly refused to drive that road ever again. If I have to go up that mountain again, I'll take a bus.
Thankfully,the country roads near where I live are more tame.
*
I don't know how old I was or even where it was. All I knew is I was driving a country road somewhere and something just propelled to pull over and get out.
I did.
It was late summer. There was a tree nearby and it was sort of shaking a bit in the breeze. Most of its leaves were green but there was this little bit where they were orange. There was a wheat field nearby and I could hear the wind rustling through it. I also heard grasshoppers jump around. I sniffed and the air smelled like mud and rain and summer.
I got back in my car and drove on. Soon I was back in the city. I went downtown, parked my car, got out and listened.
I saw a building with graffiti on it and a garbage can that was overflowing. I saw an apple core and an empty bottle of Orange Crush in the gutter. I saw a 7-Eleven and a teenaged kid smoking a cigarette. I heard someone screaming profanity at someone else. I heard traffic. I heard a stereo in someone's car play a song about having a house full of hos. I smelled garbage and car exhaust and decay.
I think I learned my lesson.
*
John Denver's message was that happiness isn't something in the faraway future, something we can only attain if we try real hard and give stuff up. He said that happiness is all around us. In the wind, in the sun, in the sound of the wind in a wheat field. What more do we need? What more can we take with us?
The chicks dig my look
*
John Denver's life wasn't all sunshine and roses. He was divorced twice, was charged with drinking and driving and appeared in Oh God with George Burns. He was also denied participation in USA for Africa's 1985's pop-anthem, We are the World, because organizers thought his wholesome image would hurt the credibility of the song. Cyndi Lauper was part of USA for Africa. That probably tells you everything you need to know.
They left John out and let me in? Really?
John Denver also joined forces with Frank Zappa and Dee Snider, lead singer of the 80s hair-metal band Twisted Sister, to speak out against the Parents' Music Resource Centre's 1985 effort to put warning labels on music albums. He said it was censorship but he also took time to complain that his song Rocky Mountain High had been ripped from many radio stations because people assumed it was about drug use.
Mr. Denver said the song was about the natural euphoria you experience when you visit the Rocky Mountains. I grew up near the Rocky Mountains and I can tell you Denver knew what he was talking about. In Spades.
From Rocky Mountain High:
He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below
He saw every thing as far as you can see
And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun
And he lost a friend but kept the memory
Now he walks in quiet solitude the forest and the streams
Seeking grace in every step he takes
His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand
The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake
And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
Talk to God and listen to the casual reply
Rocky mountain high
That's one of the best things John Denver has ever said. It's better than Thank God I'm a country boy and much much better than “I think I'll go flying today.”
But there's a reason people censored Rocky Mountain High. John Denver said it was because those people had never been to the Rockies before and could not appreciate what he was writing about.
Actually, the reason was much simpler: they were morons.
*
Memo to Kristin, who gave me the title to this note: I think your favourite part of this rambling little freewrite will be the juxtaposition of the two out-of-vehicle experiences in city and country. Of course, you could be a huge John Denver fan, which would be kind of cool. I dunno, reading this note makes me think it's more about John Denver and not so much about country roads.
But that's probably okay.
*
The song Country Roads isn't so much about country roads as it is the euphoria one feels when they come home after a long day. For John Denver, who spent weeks and even months on the road, returning to the family farm was probably so overwhelming that it made him cry.
For the record: The farmhouse near Rosetown has been sold as has the cottage near Jackfish Lake. I don't expect I'll ever visit them again.
I have not been to Calgary in 15 months, which is a long time to go without a sojourn home.
I live in a small apartment. About nine years ago, someone told me that I wouldn't be there long, that I'd probably find a house some day and settle down.
I am still in that apartment.
There are days when I feel like I have no home.
*
So let's pretend it's summer. Like Roxette said: "Hit the road out of nowhere, had to jump in my car." Yeah the sun is shining bright in that blue and cloudless sky and I'm gonna roll down all the windows and put my favourite music in the stereo and turn the volume up as high as I want. Got a bottle of cold Dr. Pepper in the cupholder beside me and dude, I am gonna drive drive drive. I want to go fast. That's what summer is about.
Here we are. Country road. I'm driving it and there's a cloud of brown dirt-dust flying behind me. On either side of me are sunflower fields, bobbing a little on the wind, looking like praying ladies.
Put your sunglasses on. Don't look in the mirror though. It'll just tell you you're getting old.
And I drive past a family of scarecrows that someone put by the roadside. A sign nearby tells me that the Williamstown Fair kicks off in just three short days.
Gotta smile now. There's gonna be a Ferris wheel there and who knows? It may just bring back a memory.
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