As I’ve noted before, driving is my therapy. Inside the cockpit, I’m alone with nothing but my thoughts {okay, Angelina is usually my travel companion, but she doesn’t say much — unless it’s time for a potty stop}. I’ve been known to play the air drums, break out in tears, yell and scream, or just sedately listen to the voices in my head — all while keeping a keen eye on the road at 50, 60 or even 70 mph.

And, you heard my latest complaint about listening to audiobooks on muli-hour, multi-state trips. They were okay, but, generally speaking, I found my creativity stifled listening to the audiobook. My neurons seemed caged, focused more on listening to the book than sparking thoughts.

I like to let my neurons free range on road trips, flitting from one random thought to another. My imagination runs wild. Some would say it runs amok. Well, yesterday they were running free as I trekked from New York to Ohio.

I usually have a CD supply or IHeartRadio or Pandora to subliminally entertain me and open the cages. Yesterday I was listening to The Wolf, Country’s Best out of Idaho courtesy of Tune-In Radio. Since they have a no repeat policy and limited on line advertising, it was just the stimulus need to wake up the neurons. There were current country songs and artists … but quite a few of their older offerings as well. There were some old standards by the likes of Dwight Yoakum, George Strait, Dolly Parton, Martina McBride, Johnny Cash, Alan Jackson, Shania Twain … just to name a few.

When Remember When blared through the speakers, I could hear the neurons whisper, “How is he going to react?” I remembered, not with melancholy but with celebration. I could hear them dancing to Nine to Five, forcing the fingers to dance on the steering wheel. When Rodney Atkins preached If You’re Going Though Hell I found myself raising my hands {one at a time} with them shouting “Amen!” Songs like Gettin’ You Home (The Black Dress Song) or The Farmer’s Daughter or Forever and Ever, Amen or The Way You Love Me brought back fond memories.

I could hear the voices talking. One voice asked why I was listening to country music. “Didn’t he say the only way to listen to country music was in a pickup?” The other chipped in, “Maybe he’s thinking about getting a pickup”. On cue, the next song on the playlist was Pickup Man. When I Will Always Love You played, one of the voices pointed out, “Wasn’t that from Best Little Whorehouse in Texas?” and the other added, “Yes. And he saw it in Texas!” That opened new memories of my training time in Texas, which led me to my time working in Illinois {where I was working when I went for the training} and the many friends I have and had in the Land of Lincoln.

I pulled off the Turnpike to the lyrics of This Is Country Music by Brad Paisley and I thought to myself, “Yes, this is country music … and this is life.” I could feel those neurons fist bumping.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: In the confusion, we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word. — Walt Whitman