I've heard people say that the Summer Olympics are the only "real" Olympics, and the TV ratings for the Winter Olympics are usually dismal. This baffles me. The Winter Olympics fascinate me, and I'd much rather watch people hurtle down a mountain at high speeds than jump across a dusty ditch.
That said, the Winter Olympics include some events that are not familiar to anyone who doesn't actually participate. Here are five that may need some explanation.
1. Biathlon. Most people are vaguely aware of this event as the "skiing and shooting one." Technically, the word biathlon means any combination of two sports, but this event is a combination of cross-country skiing and riflery. It originated in Norway, as part of military training, and was first an Olympic sport in 1924, when it was called "military patrol." Women didn't compete in this event until 1992. Competitors ski around a cross-country track, with either two or four breaks for shooting rounds. Half of the shooting rounds are from a standing position, and half are prone. Each shooting round consists of five targets, and if the competitor misses a target, he can make it up in one of three ways: a penalty skiing loop, an extra minute added to his time, or the use of one of three "extra" cartridges available for the race. Competitors use small-bore, bolt-action rifles that shoot .22LR ammunition, and the targets are 50 meters away. Setting up a biathlon course is complicated; Maine has a major biathlon facility in Fort Kent.
2. Bobsleigh. Men compete in two-man and four-man sleds, women compete in two-woman sleds. The sport originated in St. Moritz, Switzerland, and is similar to but evolved from Luge and Skeleton (keep reading). The bobsled track is a half-pipe of ice, with at least one section of straight-away and one "labyrinth," a series of twists and turns. A two-person crew consists of a pilot and a brakeman; four-person crews add two pushers. Bobsleds can go about 90 miles an hour, and hit forces of 5Gs. It's been an Olympic sport since 1924, but women have only competed at the Olympics since 2002.
3. Curling. Curling is awesome. Hard-core curling fans might object to this description, but it is kind of like shuffleboard on ice. It fascinated me as a child, because the players don't wear skates; they wear specialized curling shoes, although recreational players sometimes just wear sneakers. One shoe grips and one shoe slides; the custom-made sliding shoes are coated with Teflon, but amateurs improvise with tape or scuffing. The object of the game is to move a large oval stone (the rock) from one end of an ice lane (the curling sheet) to the other; the goal is called "the house." Four members to a side chase the rock from one end of the sheet to the other by sweeping the ice with specialized brooms, which reduces friction and keeps the rock moving. Each round (end) comprises the delivery of sixteen stones, and the team with the stones closest to the center of the house wins. Curling dates back to medieval Scotland, has been an Olympic competition sport since 1998, and is central to the plot of Louise Penny's excellent mystery A FATAL GRACE.
4. Luge. Another sledding event, with athletes competing as individuals or in pairs. Lugers lie supine (on their backs, face up) on their sleds, and steer with their feet and shoulders. Luge tracks include curves and banks, and the same tracks can be used for luge, bobsled, and skeleton. An individual luger can pull 7Gs, and hit speeds close to 100 mph.
5. Skeleton. Like luge, but prone (face down) and head first, and the skeleton sled has no steering or braking mechanisms. Athletes compete as individuals, and many bobsledders get their start on the skeleton. The course is the same as for bobsled and luge. Because skeleton sleds have no steering or brakes, the international governing body limits force to 5Gs. Skeleton was added to the permanent list of Winter Olympics sports in 2002, though it had been included in earlier games. Women have competed internationally since 2000. (Do you notice how late women are being included in a lot of these things? Don't ever question the value of Title IX.)
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Monday, February 08, 2010
Five Best Gene Hackman Roles
Gene Hackman turned 80 last week. He's still the voice on the Home Depot commercials, but he hasn't made a film in six years; the last was the unfortunate Welcome to Mooseport (2004). I stayed up too late on Saturday night because Bonnie and Clyde followed The French Connection on Turner Classic Movies, and anyway I believe that Kevin Wignall suggested this list months ago.
If your views differ, leave them in the comments section.
1. Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle, The French Connection (1971). Hackman's first truly iconic role. Popeye Doyle is a screw-up, a bad cop who isn't even particularly competent, except that he's willing to follow his obsessions to the bitter end. Imagine anyone else in this role, and the movie doesn't work at all, because Doyle is fundamentally unlikable — except that Hackman shows us a real man, not a cartoon. And he did about half of his own driving in that car chase.
2. Harry Caul, The Conversation (1974). Again, Hackman plays a character I'd cross a room to avoid. Harry Caul is paranoid, bitter, amoral and vain — and the discovery that he does have a conscience after all changes none of this. It's hard to imagine what a movie like The Conversation would look like if made today, and which modern actors would be willing to play Harry as he's written.
3. The Blind Man, Young Frankenstein (1974). Oh, come on. This has to be on the list. It also makes my list of all-time Top Five Movie Cameos. "Where are you going? I was gonna make espresso."
4. Harry Moseby, Night Moves (1975). I'm surprised by how few of my friends have seen this movie, a masterpiece of 1970s neo-noir. Harry Moseby is a Lew Archer-style private detective who goes looking for a runaway teenager (Melanie Griffith, in her first credited role). The search leads Harry into a tangle of sex, smuggling, greed and betrayal, and no one is redeemed. I just looked, and you can watch this as streaming video on Netflix. Do it when you're in a reasonably good mood.
5. Little Bill Daggett, Unforgiven (1992). Little Bill Daggett is the gleefully amoral sheriff of Big Whiskey, Wyoming, and he keeps the peace because peace is best for business. Having set himself up as an absolute ruler, he dooms himself to an inevitable overthrow; he's not a good man, but his actions and his end have an unlikely nobility.
If your views differ, leave them in the comments section.
1. Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle, The French Connection (1971). Hackman's first truly iconic role. Popeye Doyle is a screw-up, a bad cop who isn't even particularly competent, except that he's willing to follow his obsessions to the bitter end. Imagine anyone else in this role, and the movie doesn't work at all, because Doyle is fundamentally unlikable — except that Hackman shows us a real man, not a cartoon. And he did about half of his own driving in that car chase.
2. Harry Caul, The Conversation (1974). Again, Hackman plays a character I'd cross a room to avoid. Harry Caul is paranoid, bitter, amoral and vain — and the discovery that he does have a conscience after all changes none of this. It's hard to imagine what a movie like The Conversation would look like if made today, and which modern actors would be willing to play Harry as he's written.
3. The Blind Man, Young Frankenstein (1974). Oh, come on. This has to be on the list. It also makes my list of all-time Top Five Movie Cameos. "Where are you going? I was gonna make espresso."
4. Harry Moseby, Night Moves (1975). I'm surprised by how few of my friends have seen this movie, a masterpiece of 1970s neo-noir. Harry Moseby is a Lew Archer-style private detective who goes looking for a runaway teenager (Melanie Griffith, in her first credited role). The search leads Harry into a tangle of sex, smuggling, greed and betrayal, and no one is redeemed. I just looked, and you can watch this as streaming video on Netflix. Do it when you're in a reasonably good mood.
5. Little Bill Daggett, Unforgiven (1992). Little Bill Daggett is the gleefully amoral sheriff of Big Whiskey, Wyoming, and he keeps the peace because peace is best for business. Having set himself up as an absolute ruler, he dooms himself to an inevitable overthrow; he's not a good man, but his actions and his end have an unlikely nobility.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Five Random Songs
I complained about the snow, but now I feel a little guilty about being in Maine, where the ground has bare spots, when the DC area is under 18 inches and counting. It's all about finding the happy medium . . . friends of mine are competing in today's US National Toboggan Championships, and a little extra snow would probably be welcome. Other than that, it's a perfect day for it: sunny, still, temperatures in the low 20s. Winter in Maine doesn't get much better than this, and Dizzy and I will probably take a long walk this afternoon.
In the meantime, here are five random songs off the iPod Shuffle.
1. "Green Island," The Skatalites. An instrumental that's heavy on the horns. This CD, a best-of collection, was a gift from my friend Tom, who knows my affection for both ska and trumpets.
2. "Prince of Peace," School of Seven Bells. Another gift, this one a Christmas present from a friend who is my main source of music produced in this century. Thanks, John!
3. "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," The Beatles. See what I mean? I bought this album myself, and originally owned it on vinyl.
4. "Black Cadillac," Rosanne Cash. My friend Jen gave me this CD after Mom died, and I gave copies to my siblings. I listened to it nonstop for months, and never got tired of it. I'm still not tired of it. "It's a lonely world/Guess it always was/Minus you/And minus blood, my blood."
5. "Drive South," John Hiatt. If my post about great driving songs had run to ten, this song would have made this list. Of course, driving south wouldn't be a great idea today, but in general . . .
In the meantime, here are five random songs off the iPod Shuffle.
1. "Green Island," The Skatalites. An instrumental that's heavy on the horns. This CD, a best-of collection, was a gift from my friend Tom, who knows my affection for both ska and trumpets.
2. "Prince of Peace," School of Seven Bells. Another gift, this one a Christmas present from a friend who is my main source of music produced in this century. Thanks, John!
3. "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," The Beatles. See what I mean? I bought this album myself, and originally owned it on vinyl.
4. "Black Cadillac," Rosanne Cash. My friend Jen gave me this CD after Mom died, and I gave copies to my siblings. I listened to it nonstop for months, and never got tired of it. I'm still not tired of it. "It's a lonely world/Guess it always was/Minus you/And minus blood, my blood."
5. "Drive South," John Hiatt. If my post about great driving songs had run to ten, this song would have made this list. Of course, driving south wouldn't be a great idea today, but in general . . .
Friday, February 05, 2010
Five Endangered Languages in North America
The BBC reported yesterday that the last speaker of an ancient language called Bo had died. Boa, who was approximately 85 years old, had been the last speaker of her native language for more than 30 years. She lived on the Andaman Islands, in the Indian Ocean. Linguists believed her language to be one of the world's oldest, originating in Africa during the Neolithic period. Bo is the second Andaman language to have disappeared in the last three months. You can hear what Bo sounded like here (scroll down for the audio link).
Advocates of Esperanto say that languages divide people, and that the adoption of a global language will bring peace and understanding to our divided species. I went through a brief fascination with Esperanto in middle school, when I first started to learn Latin, and it seemed obvious that we'd all be better off if we just spoke the same language.
Thirty years later, that strikes me as a little simplistic. I still think we ought to be able to communicate with each other, but more and more I see the value of learning someone else's language, and preserving those differences. We can feel things we don't have names for, but we can't know something until we give it a name. Societies define themselves by how they name the things that are important to them, which is why it matters whether we call someone "crippled" or "disabled" (to give one example). When I moved to Los Angeles, I took Spanish classes. It was important to me that I be able to watch Telemundo or Univision, or read La Opinion. (I should admit that my Spanish never got good enough for me to have a conversation; newspaper headlines and "Sabado Gigante" are about the limits of my ability.)
Anyway, of the approximately 7,000 languages human beings speak, linguists estimate that about 3,000 are in danger of extinction. These are five (of approximately 100) about to disappear from North America.
1. Lipan Apache. Spoken by two people in 1981, it may now be extinct. The last two speakers lived on the Mescalero Reservation in New Mexico, and the community that once spoke Lipan Apache now speaks English.
2. Hupa. Spoken by eight people in 1998, it is taught in primary schools on the Hoopa Valley Reservation in northwest California. Language immersion camps are also being offered to adults.
3. Osage. A language of the Sioux, spoken by five people as of 1992, in north central Oklahoma.
4. Tolowa. Four speakers in 1994, in southwest Oregon. The tribe that spoke this language is extinct, although a population survey in 2000 identified 1,000 people with an ethnic connection to the language.
5. Tuscarora. Four speakers in the US in 1997, seven in Canada in 1991. An Iroquois language that had its own dictionary and grammar; the few remaining native speakers live on the Tuscarora Reservation near Niagara Falls, NY.
The source of all of this information (and so much more) is Ethnologue: Languages of the World, 16th Edition, edited by M. Paul Lewis and published by SIL International, a nonprofit organization dedicated to sustainable language development. You can buy a copy here.
Advocates of Esperanto say that languages divide people, and that the adoption of a global language will bring peace and understanding to our divided species. I went through a brief fascination with Esperanto in middle school, when I first started to learn Latin, and it seemed obvious that we'd all be better off if we just spoke the same language.
Thirty years later, that strikes me as a little simplistic. I still think we ought to be able to communicate with each other, but more and more I see the value of learning someone else's language, and preserving those differences. We can feel things we don't have names for, but we can't know something until we give it a name. Societies define themselves by how they name the things that are important to them, which is why it matters whether we call someone "crippled" or "disabled" (to give one example). When I moved to Los Angeles, I took Spanish classes. It was important to me that I be able to watch Telemundo or Univision, or read La Opinion. (I should admit that my Spanish never got good enough for me to have a conversation; newspaper headlines and "Sabado Gigante" are about the limits of my ability.)
Anyway, of the approximately 7,000 languages human beings speak, linguists estimate that about 3,000 are in danger of extinction. These are five (of approximately 100) about to disappear from North America.
1. Lipan Apache. Spoken by two people in 1981, it may now be extinct. The last two speakers lived on the Mescalero Reservation in New Mexico, and the community that once spoke Lipan Apache now speaks English.
2. Hupa. Spoken by eight people in 1998, it is taught in primary schools on the Hoopa Valley Reservation in northwest California. Language immersion camps are also being offered to adults.
3. Osage. A language of the Sioux, spoken by five people as of 1992, in north central Oklahoma.
4. Tolowa. Four speakers in 1994, in southwest Oregon. The tribe that spoke this language is extinct, although a population survey in 2000 identified 1,000 people with an ethnic connection to the language.
5. Tuscarora. Four speakers in the US in 1997, seven in Canada in 1991. An Iroquois language that had its own dictionary and grammar; the few remaining native speakers live on the Tuscarora Reservation near Niagara Falls, NY.
The source of all of this information (and so much more) is Ethnologue: Languages of the World, 16th Edition, edited by M. Paul Lewis and published by SIL International, a nonprofit organization dedicated to sustainable language development. You can buy a copy here.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Five Personal Brand Loyalties
Most advertising is wasted on me, especially celebrity endorsements. I don't need to play golf like Tiger Woods or smell like Elizabeth Hurley. But I realized when I ran out of moisturizer last week that I am brand-loyal to a handful of things, and would need to take these with me if/when I ever make it to Antarctica.
What are you brand-loyal to?
1. Tide laundry detergent. If it has to be clean, it has to be Tide. I have experimented with cheaper brands, which give me rashes, and environmentally-conscious brands, which don't get clothes clean. Tide is best — Tide with Bleach, to be specific. I'm flexible on scents. My current bottle is "Clean Breeze."
2. Oil of Olay facial moisturizer. I was even able to buy this in Russia, almost 20 years ago. I have tried the fancier versions of Oil of Olay, which I usually can't afford; I like them, and would use them if I had the money to spare, but the pink stuff suits me just fine. I do usually buy the version that has sunscreen.
3. Schweppes Diet Ginger Ale. It's more gingery than its mainstream commercial counterparts (I'm looking at you, Canada Dry), it's caffeine-free, and it has excellent bubbles.
4. Cafe Bustelo ground coffee. I am lucky enough to have friends who send me small-batch roasted beans, but I always have a can of coffee in the freezer for emergency backup. This is what I drink; it is a dark roast, ground very fine, Cuban-style.
5. Old Grand-Dad bourbon. Not to say that I won't drink other kinds of bourbon, but Old Grand-Dad is what I buy. It was a former boss's drink of choice, and the first bourbon I learned to drink. I don't need the power and complexity of the fancier stuff.
In other news, I actually bought three Powerball tickets yesterday, and — surprise, surprise — won nothing. Now I feel like a sucker.
What are you brand-loyal to?
1. Tide laundry detergent. If it has to be clean, it has to be Tide. I have experimented with cheaper brands, which give me rashes, and environmentally-conscious brands, which don't get clothes clean. Tide is best — Tide with Bleach, to be specific. I'm flexible on scents. My current bottle is "Clean Breeze."
2. Oil of Olay facial moisturizer. I was even able to buy this in Russia, almost 20 years ago. I have tried the fancier versions of Oil of Olay, which I usually can't afford; I like them, and would use them if I had the money to spare, but the pink stuff suits me just fine. I do usually buy the version that has sunscreen.
3. Schweppes Diet Ginger Ale. It's more gingery than its mainstream commercial counterparts (I'm looking at you, Canada Dry), it's caffeine-free, and it has excellent bubbles.
4. Cafe Bustelo ground coffee. I am lucky enough to have friends who send me small-batch roasted beans, but I always have a can of coffee in the freezer for emergency backup. This is what I drink; it is a dark roast, ground very fine, Cuban-style.
5. Old Grand-Dad bourbon. Not to say that I won't drink other kinds of bourbon, but Old Grand-Dad is what I buy. It was a former boss's drink of choice, and the first bourbon I learned to drink. I don't need the power and complexity of the fancier stuff.
In other news, I actually bought three Powerball tickets yesterday, and — surprise, surprise — won nothing. Now I feel like a sucker.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Five Foods and Drinks Consumed Mostly in Maine
This morning's Bangor Daily News reports that once again in 2009, as has been the case for as long as anyone remembers, Allen's Coffee Brandy was the most frequently-purchased liquor in the state of Maine.
Not long after I moved to Maine, I stopped at the New Mills Market very early one morning and stood in line behind a couple who were buying a half-gallon bottle of Allen's Coffee Brandy, a gallon of milk, and a suitcase of Natural Light beer.
"Goin' ice fishing," the man said to the clerk.
"Ice drinkin', more like," the clerk said.
While the rest of the country slides into a big homogeneous soup, Maine has managed to keep its distinctive identity, including foods and drinks you seldom see anywhere but here. I'm listing five, but invite my friends and neighbors to add more in the comments section.
1. Allen's Coffee Brandy. I haven't tried it, for no particular reason; maybe I'll try some this weekend. Friends tell me it's kind of like Kahlua, but rougher, not as thick, and not nearly as sweet. It is manufactured by a family-owned business in Somerville, MA, and I have never seen it outside New England. It is most commonly drunk as a Sombrero (equal parts coffee brandy and milk) or as a Mud Slide (vodka, coffee brandy, Bailey's Irish Cream and cream, shaken and served over ice).
2. Lobster Rolls. These have to go on the list, although I don't eat lobster myself. Fans divide themselves into two camps: purists, who believe a lobster roll should include nothing but lobster meat and butter, and those who prefer a mayonnaise-based lobster salad. In either case, the roll is key: a New England-style hot dog bun that opens at the top instead of on the side. New England hot dog buns are so vastly superior to the kind used in the rest of the country that I can't understand why they're not the default style.
3. Moxie. The official soft drink of Maine, it was invented in 1876 by Maine native Augustin Thompson, who marketed it as a patent medicine. According to legend, when Calvin Coolidge took the oath of office as President of the United States after the sudden death of Warren G. Harding, President Coolidge and his father toasted the event with Moxie. Lisbon Falls, ME hosts an annual Moxie Days festival in July, with a parade and a carnival and a river race. Contrary to what some people have said, Moxie does not taste like tar. It tastes like tar with wintergreen and cinnamon mixed in. All right, I'm not a fan, but even the most dedicated lovers of Moxie admit it's an acquired taste.
4. Pickled Fiddleheads. The emergence of fiddlehead ferns is one of Maine's first signs of spring. Fiddleheads are the young, coiled leaves of the ostrich fern, which grow wild along riverbanks and lake shores. Their season is short and they don't last long after they're harvested, so pickling is a preferred method of keeping them. It's hard to describe the flavor of a fiddlehead, but it's very green — a little like asparagus, mildly oniony. One article I saw compared the flavor to okra, but I never think of okra as having much taste on its own. You'll find some recipes for pickled fiddleheads here.
5. Whoopie Pies. The Amish invented them, but in Maine, they're almost their own religion. I had never had one before I came to Maine. They're about the size of a hamburger, two soft cookies (or firm muffin tops) with white cream in the middle; if you're making your own, straight Marshmallow Fluff works just fine. Many bakeries in Maine claim to produce the state's best whoopee pies, but you can't go wrong with Gardiner's own Wicked Whoopies, which ships nationwide. The chocolate-covered Whoop-de-Dos are insanely good.
Not long after I moved to Maine, I stopped at the New Mills Market very early one morning and stood in line behind a couple who were buying a half-gallon bottle of Allen's Coffee Brandy, a gallon of milk, and a suitcase of Natural Light beer.
"Goin' ice fishing," the man said to the clerk.
"Ice drinkin', more like," the clerk said.
While the rest of the country slides into a big homogeneous soup, Maine has managed to keep its distinctive identity, including foods and drinks you seldom see anywhere but here. I'm listing five, but invite my friends and neighbors to add more in the comments section.
1. Allen's Coffee Brandy. I haven't tried it, for no particular reason; maybe I'll try some this weekend. Friends tell me it's kind of like Kahlua, but rougher, not as thick, and not nearly as sweet. It is manufactured by a family-owned business in Somerville, MA, and I have never seen it outside New England. It is most commonly drunk as a Sombrero (equal parts coffee brandy and milk) or as a Mud Slide (vodka, coffee brandy, Bailey's Irish Cream and cream, shaken and served over ice).
2. Lobster Rolls. These have to go on the list, although I don't eat lobster myself. Fans divide themselves into two camps: purists, who believe a lobster roll should include nothing but lobster meat and butter, and those who prefer a mayonnaise-based lobster salad. In either case, the roll is key: a New England-style hot dog bun that opens at the top instead of on the side. New England hot dog buns are so vastly superior to the kind used in the rest of the country that I can't understand why they're not the default style.
3. Moxie. The official soft drink of Maine, it was invented in 1876 by Maine native Augustin Thompson, who marketed it as a patent medicine. According to legend, when Calvin Coolidge took the oath of office as President of the United States after the sudden death of Warren G. Harding, President Coolidge and his father toasted the event with Moxie. Lisbon Falls, ME hosts an annual Moxie Days festival in July, with a parade and a carnival and a river race. Contrary to what some people have said, Moxie does not taste like tar. It tastes like tar with wintergreen and cinnamon mixed in. All right, I'm not a fan, but even the most dedicated lovers of Moxie admit it's an acquired taste.
4. Pickled Fiddleheads. The emergence of fiddlehead ferns is one of Maine's first signs of spring. Fiddleheads are the young, coiled leaves of the ostrich fern, which grow wild along riverbanks and lake shores. Their season is short and they don't last long after they're harvested, so pickling is a preferred method of keeping them. It's hard to describe the flavor of a fiddlehead, but it's very green — a little like asparagus, mildly oniony. One article I saw compared the flavor to okra, but I never think of okra as having much taste on its own. You'll find some recipes for pickled fiddleheads here.
5. Whoopie Pies. The Amish invented them, but in Maine, they're almost their own religion. I had never had one before I came to Maine. They're about the size of a hamburger, two soft cookies (or firm muffin tops) with white cream in the middle; if you're making your own, straight Marshmallow Fluff works just fine. Many bakeries in Maine claim to produce the state's best whoopee pies, but you can't go wrong with Gardiner's own Wicked Whoopies, which ships nationwide. The chocolate-covered Whoop-de-Dos are insanely good.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Five Great Driving Songs
Hitting the road again this morning, back to Maine for a couple of weeks. I'll be traveling a lot between now and the end of April, and possibly for longer than that. I like the feeling of being in motion; it gives me the illusion of momentum and meaning.
Every road trip needs a soundtrack, and while I'll spend a lot of the next 12 hours listening to audiobooks, these are five songs that are always in my iPod on a long drive. Leave your own recommendations in the comments section.
1. "Brand New Cadillac," The Clash. Not only the greatest car song of all time, but it has a secret feminist message: if you have a really cool car, you don't need some loser guy. A 2000 VW New Beetle counts as a really cool car, right?
2. "Roadrunner," The Modern Lovers. On the way home, I'm always driving through Massachusetts late at night, and this song is essential. "Going faster miles an hour . . . I say Roadrunner once/Roadrunner twice/I'm in love with rock and roll/And I'll be out all night." Listen to it here.
3. "White Light/White Heat," The Velvet Underground. It's a safe bet that this song has something to do with the consumption of illegal pharmaceuticals, but the beat is perfect when you're barreling through the plains of New Jersey.
4. "Gloria," Patti Smith. I'm picking this cover instead of the original (with Van Morrison and Them) because Van Morrison only gets one song on this list.
5. "Real Real Gone," Van Morrison. Mary Chapin Carpenter used to do a great cover of this as a final encore, which strikes me as a perfect use for the song. But the original version is not only a great song, it's an amazing arrangement. The organ zips up to the beginning, the horns announce the theme, Van's voice is an invitation, and the whole thing feels like flying.
Every road trip needs a soundtrack, and while I'll spend a lot of the next 12 hours listening to audiobooks, these are five songs that are always in my iPod on a long drive. Leave your own recommendations in the comments section.
1. "Brand New Cadillac," The Clash. Not only the greatest car song of all time, but it has a secret feminist message: if you have a really cool car, you don't need some loser guy. A 2000 VW New Beetle counts as a really cool car, right?
2. "Roadrunner," The Modern Lovers. On the way home, I'm always driving through Massachusetts late at night, and this song is essential. "Going faster miles an hour . . . I say Roadrunner once/Roadrunner twice/I'm in love with rock and roll/And I'll be out all night." Listen to it here.
3. "White Light/White Heat," The Velvet Underground. It's a safe bet that this song has something to do with the consumption of illegal pharmaceuticals, but the beat is perfect when you're barreling through the plains of New Jersey.
4. "Gloria," Patti Smith. I'm picking this cover instead of the original (with Van Morrison and Them) because Van Morrison only gets one song on this list.
5. "Real Real Gone," Van Morrison. Mary Chapin Carpenter used to do a great cover of this as a final encore, which strikes me as a perfect use for the song. But the original version is not only a great song, it's an amazing arrangement. The organ zips up to the beginning, the horns announce the theme, Van's voice is an invitation, and the whole thing feels like flying.
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