It's Sunday and time for Sunday Favorites, where Chari, from Happy to Design allows participants to share an old blog post with readers, while still taking Sunday off, by reposting an old post.
Years ago, as an over the road truck driver, I collected a few thoughts and stories from my journeys and travels. In my Sunday Favorites posts, I am sharing some of those stories.
This story happened in the Spring of 1999.
A DIFFERENT DRUMMER
It was a warm Sunday afternoon and I was driving on Highway 6 over Soldier Summit, from Spanish Fork to Green River, Utah. The road was clean and clear, traffic was slow, and I had the local Country station cranked up loud on the radio.
Like I often do when I am driving and the weather is nice I was drumming my hands on the steering wheel playing along with whichever group was twanging out a tune.
Just then, a pickup truck passed me. Sitting in the back were two kids who looked like they could very well have been extras on either Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure or Wayne's World. One of them looked back and saw me playing my steering wheel drums. He nudged the other, and they both broke out in huge grins. I should have been embarrassed, but I decided to keep on playing. I probably was too caught up in the song anyway to mind at that point.
The kids grinned for a minute, then one held up his hands like he was holding a guitar, and started "playing" also. The other joined in on his "air guitar" and so we drove down the highway for several minutes ------I on my drums, and they on what I presumed was a bass guitar and a lead guitar.
Finally, we finished our song, and they drove away, still grinning big old silly grins.
That was it; A moment in time. They probably forgot all about it, and never gave our "jam session" another thought, but I have thought about it a lot over the years.
I have no idea what songs these two listened to, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't country. I had my tune, running through my head, and they had their tune, running through theirs. Two completely different worlds, yet for just a moment, we intersected. We meshed. In a bizarre and unexplainable way, for just that brief glimpse of time, we shared a common denominator.
We may have marched to two different drummers, but we were in harmony with one another.
Isn't that what it is all about? We go through life, passing perfect strangers, many of whom have little or nothing in common with us. Yet the question is, how different are we really?
Aren't we all just in it for the song?
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