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Back by popular demand, another letter for you reading pleasure…

Dear Sir,

I’m writing you this letter today to simply say thank you.  You don’t know me, and I’m certain you’re wondering what on Earth I am thanking you for, so let me explain.  It had been a long day at the office, time moving at glacier speed, when the hour of departure finally arrived.  I was driving home, anxious to see my family, when an untimely fender bender found me in traffic.  As I sat there watching a caterpillar outpace me on the sidewalk, I cursed my plight and wondered when I would ever get out of this mess.  That’s when I saw you.

Your vehicle creeped to a stop next to me, our windows aligned perfectly with one another, and I instinctively glanced to my left.  What I found, caused me first to do a double take, and then to watch intently as it was clear we weren’t moving anytime soon.  There you were, stuck in traffic just like me, but making the most of it by singing your ever-loving heart out to the tunes of your radio.  I suppose it could have been your iPod, but as a rather burly looking gentleman, I have to assume that “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen is not on your playlist.  But to each his own, so I’ll digress.  

I watched in awe as your musical talent reverberated through your blue Honda Accord.  Your ability to master every air instrument known to man was beyond impressive.  You bounced between drums, lead guitar, bass guitar, and was that an oboe?  A smile began to form on my face as I watched you give everything you had to that doggie hood ornament with the bouncing head.  “This guy really knows how to live.”  I thought to myself.

If not for your back window being cracked slightly, I probably would have been unable to hear your ridiculously off-key voice.  But don’t think for a moment that it detracted from the respect I had already given you.  It takes a lot of guts to take that performance on the road, the one you likely perfected in the shower, and no matter how ear-bleedingly bad you may be, I can’t find the heart to fault you for it.  In fact, my only problem with your boy band tryout was that you stopped when you realized I was watching you.

There is no shame in singing in the car my friend, none at all.  We, as a society, need more people like you.  Unafraid to flaunt your inability to string two notes together is what makes you special.  I have been known to tear the roof off this mutha as well from time to time, but always with the windows up and never at a red light or in traffic.  I just don’t have the self-confidence that you possess, I suppose.  So don’t pull the plug on your set list just because you’ve caught the eye of a fellow driver; you’re better than that.

Thankfully, your passion for singing and love for teenage pop anthems overtook your insecurities and within seconds you were back at it; lost in the music once again.  Dropping the instruments, you let the beat turn your cockpit into a dance floor, proving – as Gloria Estefan said – that eventually the rhythm is going to get you.  I could feel my toe tapping as I watched you cut loose and as the traffic ahead of us began to move, I actually felt disappointment that we had to part ways.   I was so looking forward to hearing what you had in store for an encore.

So once again, I’d like to thank you for turning a depressing bumper to bumper situation into an exhilarating concert event worthy of a cover charge.  And in the words of your muse, Carly, let me say in closing; Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy.  But here’s my number, so call me, maybe?


The guy in the blue Toyota Camry

For those unfamiliar with the song in question, I suggest turning on a radio and listening for 10 minutes…it’ll come on, I promise.  Or just watch this…

And for a little more enjoyment on your Tuesday morning, click the below video and prepare to smile…