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Who Should Control the Music in the Car?
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I have nightmarish memories of going on long car trips as a child with my parents and being forced to listen to Greek folk music or the Vienna Boys' Choir or some such non-kid friendly music. On the other hand I was once stuck in a car driving through the Alps listening to the same Barney tape over and over again because there was an 18 month old in the car who would scream bloody murder if any attempt was made to listen to something else.



Driver should choose. Period. Ain't no fucking way I'm driving with the Black Eyed Peas' "Boom Boom Pow" as my soundtrack. When I'm driving in my car, I play what I want to play. When my wife's driving, she chooses. Simple as that, and there's no complaining or hard feelings.

Whoever's name is on the title.
If you've even been held captive behind the wheel of a van on a three-hour trek straight up I-75 to the wilds of northern Michigan, musical accompaniment courtesy of the "Shrek 2" soundtrack (Pete Yorn covering the Buzzcocks' "Ever Fallen In Love"? I think I feel sick.) and your wife's Norah Jones and Dave Matthews Band CD's (ditto), then surely you can feel my pain.
If you've even been held captive behind the wheel of a van on a three-hour trek straight up I-75 to the wilds of northern Michigan, musical accompaniment courtesy of the "Shrek 2" soundtrack (Pete Yorn covering the Buzzcocks' "Ever Fallen In Love"? I think I feel sick.) and your wife's Norah Jones and Dave Matthews Band CD's (ditto), then surely you can feel my pain.
Kevin "El Liso Grande" wrote: "i am ok with taking turns. traditionally with my group when i was younger was that shotgun handled the radio (including cassettes and 8-tracks). they also handled the roach clip but that is for ano..."
What's an 8-track?
What's an 8-track?
Heidi wrote: "When I have someone in the car with me, I turn the music off so we can converse. OR I'll bring along some audiobooks we can all enjoy together."
I turn the music UP so I don't have to converse. Nothing says "leave me alone right now" like the Stooges' "No Fun."
I turn the music UP so I don't have to converse. Nothing says "leave me alone right now" like the Stooges' "No Fun."

Was an album by led zeppelin
I bought it on eight track
Not on cd
Fades out in the middle
The way an eight track's s'posed to
The way an eight track's s'posed to
Ker-chunk!
Believe it or not, I still have 73 8-tracks. They're out in the garage (I counted them and made a list this past weekend), along with a fully-functioning player. Can you tell my plate was sort of empty?
Believe it or not, I still have 73 8-tracks. They're out in the garage (I counted them and made a list this past weekend), along with a fully-functioning player. Can you tell my plate was sort of empty?

Kevin "El Liso Grande" wrote: "do you have nazareth hair of the dog?"
How did you know?
Also:
Alice Cooper
"Killer"
"Billion Dollar Babies"
"Love It to Death"
The Who
"Who's Next
Aerosmith
"Get Your Wings"
"Toys in the Attic"
Thin Lizzy
"Jailbreak"
Kiss
"Kiss"
"Hotter Than Hell"
Led Zeppelin
"Physical Graffiti"
Uriah Heep
"The Magician's Birthday"
"Demons and Wizards"
ELP
"Brain Salad Surgery"
and a bunch of others no one except me give a fat f*ck about.
How did you know?
Also:
Alice Cooper
"Killer"
"Billion Dollar Babies"
"Love It to Death"
The Who
"Who's Next
Aerosmith
"Get Your Wings"
"Toys in the Attic"
Thin Lizzy
"Jailbreak"
Kiss
"Kiss"
"Hotter Than Hell"
Led Zeppelin
"Physical Graffiti"
Uriah Heep
"The Magician's Birthday"
"Demons and Wizards"
ELP
"Brain Salad Surgery"
and a bunch of others no one except me give a fat f*ck about.

Kevin "El Liso Grande" wrote: "somehow i was expecting a 3 dog nite on that list also"
Not on 8-track. But I have a hits compilation on vinyl.
Not on 8-track. But I have a hits compilation on vinyl.
Mary wrote: "I think I still have Robin Trower's "Bridge of Sighs" on 8-track somewhere around here. For sentimental reasons only."
Always thought that was the perfect rainy-day album.
Always thought that was the perfect rainy-day album.
My dad owned Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on 8-track, which I played constantly when I was a little one.
On the other hand, he had some horrid shit on 8-track he used to torture us with. Ray Conniff, anyone? If you know who Ray Conniff was, I'm sorry for you. Really.
On the other hand, he had some horrid shit on 8-track he used to torture us with. Ray Conniff, anyone? If you know who Ray Conniff was, I'm sorry for you. Really.

Gus wrote: "My dad owned Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on 8-track, which I played constantly when I was a little one.
On the other hand, he had some horrid shit on 8-track he used to torture us with. Ray Conniff..."
That's another one on my list, Gus. Thanks for making me feel positively archaic. But aside from "Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player," the old queen's never sounded better.
On the other hand, he had some horrid shit on 8-track he used to torture us with. Ray Conniff..."
That's another one on my list, Gus. Thanks for making me feel positively archaic. But aside from "Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player," the old queen's never sounded better.
I think that's the best album Elton John's ever recorded.

LOVE old Elton John.
Heidi wrote: "Clark wrote: "I turn the music UP so I don't h..."
Mr. Grumpy Butt! :)"
Try - in succession - moderating an knock-down, drag-out argument about who sits where in the van, fielding 71 questions in 2-1/2 minutes from a pair of nine-year-olds amped up on juice boxes and pixy sticks, and dodging suggestions to stop at the Birch Run outlet mall on the way up north and let's see if you aren't ready to shave your head, start listening to Norwegian death metal, climb a water tower, and start picking off pedestrians.
Up with people, baby...
Mr. Grumpy Butt! :)"
Try - in succession - moderating an knock-down, drag-out argument about who sits where in the van, fielding 71 questions in 2-1/2 minutes from a pair of nine-year-olds amped up on juice boxes and pixy sticks, and dodging suggestions to stop at the Birch Run outlet mall on the way up north and let's see if you aren't ready to shave your head, start listening to Norwegian death metal, climb a water tower, and start picking off pedestrians.
Up with people, baby...
Barb wrote: "*thinks Clark should stop feeding his kids pixie sticks before long trips*"
It's my wife, Barb. Honest. I know how sugar affects them and try to keep it out of their reach at all times.
It's my wife, Barb. Honest. I know how sugar affects them and try to keep it out of their reach at all times.
Barb wrote: "*thinks Clark should stop feeding his kids pixie sticks before long trips*"
I was thinking the same thing, and combine that with juice boxes, and the end result is inevitable.
I was thinking the same thing, and combine that with juice boxes, and the end result is inevitable.
Might as well just give 'em speed.
Kidding.
Kidding.


My only true parental meltdown happened when my then five year old nailed me in the back of the head, while I was driving, with a beanie baby. He was aiming at his brother and missed. And, sadly, I missed our turn off because of it. I think my kids are going to talk about that meltdown when they get older, e.g. "remember that time Dad freaked the fuck out when he missed the turnoff at Ikea because Nathaniel hit him in the back of the head with a dolphin? That was pretty fucking funny, if you think about it." And then they'll do imitations of me sputtering like a jackass.

Ohhh, that part made me laugh out loud the most. That was the best laugh I've had all day! :)

My only true parental meltdown happened when my then five year old nailed ..."
I'm in. I've already got them hidden in the cabinet.

Mary wrote: "My husband and I basically like the same music, or at least can tolerate eachother's choices. For long road trips we're pretty careful to pick CDs that we would both enjoy."
Sweeter and I share musical taste for the most part, for sure. That's what brought us together in the beginning, I'd say.
But he certainly controls the stereo in his car. And he usually has picked out five or seven new CDs in the changer, and he delights in these selections. So scrolling through what he knew he put in there, relating it to something we've recently been talking about or enjoying elsewhere, bands who influenced someone we like, original tracks that have been sampled recently, so on and so forth. So he is in charge of that.
But when we go in my car I really like just listening to the radio. I make a point of it. I control that much. I'd get annoyed if he got out my car cd book and popped something in without asking or discussing it. But that never happens. First, because the only cds in my car are shebangs (I have a lot of them!) and the only tapes I have are Phish bootlegs.
Sweeter and I share musical taste for the most part, for sure. That's what brought us together in the beginning, I'd say.
But he certainly controls the stereo in his car. And he usually has picked out five or seven new CDs in the changer, and he delights in these selections. So scrolling through what he knew he put in there, relating it to something we've recently been talking about or enjoying elsewhere, bands who influenced someone we like, original tracks that have been sampled recently, so on and so forth. So he is in charge of that.
But when we go in my car I really like just listening to the radio. I make a point of it. I control that much. I'd get annoyed if he got out my car cd book and popped something in without asking or discussing it. But that never happens. First, because the only cds in my car are shebangs (I have a lot of them!) and the only tapes I have are Phish bootlegs.
Clark wrote: "Whoever's name is on the title.
If you've even been held captive behind the wheel of a van on a three-hour trek straight up I-75 to the wilds of northern Michigan, musical accompaniment courtesy..."
I feel the opposite of your pain. Some of my worst memories are of being stuck in the back of someone's parent's car as we inch our way toward Winter Park or Copper Mountain. The back of the car is always friggin over or underheated, and the front seat people are oblivious. Second, music gets turned up super loud so the front seaters can converse and hear the tunes, but the back seat people are often stuck, as in a concert, just nodding and perhaps mouthing words to each other but unable to communicate. The worst was a trip in which I listened to The Police - whatever album it was that had "Roxanne" on it - over and over and OVER again while Lisa's dad managed to get us, scrunched in the back of his lame 90s Mercury SUV with the skiis jammed in between the seats inside the car, which may be good for gas mileage but fucking sucks for back seat passengers, through a snowstorm and a traffic jam on Berthoud Pass.
If you've even been held captive behind the wheel of a van on a three-hour trek straight up I-75 to the wilds of northern Michigan, musical accompaniment courtesy..."
I feel the opposite of your pain. Some of my worst memories are of being stuck in the back of someone's parent's car as we inch our way toward Winter Park or Copper Mountain. The back of the car is always friggin over or underheated, and the front seat people are oblivious. Second, music gets turned up super loud so the front seaters can converse and hear the tunes, but the back seat people are often stuck, as in a concert, just nodding and perhaps mouthing words to each other but unable to communicate. The worst was a trip in which I listened to The Police - whatever album it was that had "Roxanne" on it - over and over and OVER again while Lisa's dad managed to get us, scrunched in the back of his lame 90s Mercury SUV with the skiis jammed in between the seats inside the car, which may be good for gas mileage but fucking sucks for back seat passengers, through a snowstorm and a traffic jam on Berthoud Pass.

If you've even been held captive behind the wheel of a van on a three-hour trek straight up I-75 to the wilds of northern Michigan, musical accompanim..."
Oh man, Sally! I had the exact same sort of experience growing up! I used to get sick to my stomach, literally, because my ex-stepdad insisted on playing country music, even though he knew I didn't like it. I would rage for hours because he thought it was funny to torture me like that. Asshole. And when I'd complain, he'd turn it up and sing along. I couldn't sleep most of the time because he'd have it up so loud. I started plugging my fingers in my ears. Literally... and falling asleep like that. I also started bringing cotton balls and I'd sneak them into my ears to plug below my fingers. I'm surprised I didn't end up with cotton shoved way down in my ear canals.
About the ONLY music of his that I could tolerate was his Bing Crosby Christmas - Mali Kalikimaka that he'd play on repeat... and even that got old after 3 hours. After he was gone, my mom started unintentionally torturing us with Jackson Browne's Running on Empty on repeat. Finally, my sister got some brains! One time when Mom had to run back into the house to get something she forgot before our roadtrip, she was sitting in the backseat and yelled, "Quick! Jackson Browne!!! NOW!!! Give it to me... hurry hurry hurry!" And when I realized what she wanted, I hurried to turn to car on so I could eject it, turned it off, handed it to her, and she shoved it in the pocket behind the driver seat - Mom never looked there. I think we both did a great job keeping a straight face when she started frantically searching for it.
So when I have someone in my backseat who wants to listen to music, I almost always give them first dibs on music... and then ask if everyone's agreeable. If I don't like it, I'll ask them to pick something else.

The Kinks, early 10000 Maniacs, early REM, early U2.

I just can't fit the words "rock," "roll," "Mom," and "Dad" into the same sentence. My parents' generation was the last of the pre-rock-and-roll era, but they still had great taste in music - Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb, Roy Acuff, etc.
I'll never forget when The Beatles popped up on "The Ed Sullivan Show" one Sunday night in 1964. The old man's attention was temporarily diverted from my sister and me (well, uh, mainly me) to long-haired guys from England, as he sputtered, fumed, and worked himself up into a fine lather, gracing us with a surreal stream-of-consciousness rant punctuated with many bad words and the occasional mad chuckle thrown in for texture.
I'll never forget when The Beatles popped up on "The Ed Sullivan Show" one Sunday night in 1964. The old man's attention was temporarily diverted from my sister and me (well, uh, mainly me) to long-haired guys from England, as he sputtered, fumed, and worked himself up into a fine lather, gracing us with a surreal stream-of-consciousness rant punctuated with many bad words and the occasional mad chuckle thrown in for texture.
Sally wrote: "Everyone should get a turn picking the music. Drivers who dont let others have a say annoy."
And rool!
What's wrong with pushing one's snotty, elitist taste on others?
And rool!
What's wrong with pushing one's snotty, elitist taste on others?
Clark wrote, What's wrong with pushing one's snotty, elitist taste on others?
Exactly. Nothing wrong with pushing your tastes on others, considering people tend to do the same.
Exactly. Nothing wrong with pushing your tastes on others, considering people tend to do the same.
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I say the driver has veto power because no one wants to drive with truly annoying music, but other than that, negotiations are open. Should people take turns? Find what's acceptable to both, even if one person doesn't get to listen to what they really want? Should everyone wear separate headphones? Keep off the music? What do you think? Road trip music experience?