***This song’s lyrics are sexually suggestive and not suitable for young ears. Consequently, I won’t post the song or the lyrics here. This is a family show. I’ll let you find them yourself if you are so inclined.
Time: Summer 1992
Place: In the bed of my grandfather’s pickup truck.
Setting: Traveling to my grandfather’s cabin in West Virginia with my family.
You’re confused, I can tell. How can I be traveling from Baltimore to West Virginia in the bed of a pickup truck? In a word: dangerously.
No seat belts. Just a bunch of kids in the cap-covered bed of my grandfather’s Chevy pickup. There were cushions, sheets, munchies and plenty of blissful ignorance. We were totally unaware of the precarious predicament we were in. Looking back, I realize how lucky we were not to be killed.
We went to West Virginia every summer the same way. We’d pile into the enclosed bed of the pickup, get comfy on the cushions and off we’d go. Five hours later we’d be in the middle of the Appalachian mountains enjoying the clean West Virginian air.
Five hours is a lot of time to spend trapped in a tiny space with nothing to do. We’d find ways to entertain ourselves. We’d pump our fists at the passing truck drivers to get them to honk their horns. Most of the time they wouldn’t, but when they did, what a thrill. One year, however, we were entertained by a less-than-chivalrous knight: Sir Mix-a-lot. My cousins’ friend brought a boom box. And on that boom box she played “Baby Got Back.” The whole trip. Five hours of “Baby Got Back.” Over. And over.
At the time, I didn’t really know what a “juicy double” was and I sure didn’t know why a knight was rapping about large snakes. Maybe he slayed one to save the princess, I thought.
Like I said, plenty of blissful ignorance.
For more information about me and the guitar lessons that I give in and around Baltimore, visit www.ewguitar.com.