Chevy Van
Since I was a teenager, I’ve had a thing for custom vans, the kind with murals painted on the side and shag carpet inside. When I was in junior high, we would make our spring break trips from the Colorado mountains to Southern California, where my mom grew up and where our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins lived. To keep us occupied during the long drive, my sister and I each picked out a magazine from the local drug store. I picked out Custom Van magazine. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the van represented a lifestyle of freedom, fun, travel, and adventure.
I still love custom vans. When Mickey and I were younger, chasing our rock ’n’ roll dreams, he bought a baby blue van with teddy bear hubcaps. The hubcaps were the main attraction everywhere we went. I still can’t believe no one ever stole them when the van was parked in the back alley of a honky-tonk, while we played music inside. Those were the days we played until 1:30 a.m. and loaded out afterward. Back then, we lived in the mountains of Colorado, and a two-wheel-drive van just didn’t cut it driving over mountain passes in the winter, so he sold it. Years later, after we moved to Nashville, we bought another van, but it didn’t last long either because I hated trying to park it in Downtown Nashville.
So guess what? We just bought another van, and I am in love. It’s a 1999 Dodge van. There’s no mural on the side, but it does have faded red shag carpet. I feel like a teenage girl again as we roll down the highway with our change/tip jar labeled “gas money” sandwiched between guitars and the cooler. The first thing I bought for the van was a Travelin’ Kind window decal for the back window.
The other morning I woke up humming along to the 70s song Chevy Van. As a teenager, when I listened to the song, I didn’t analyze the lyrics as I do now. If you’re not familiar with it, the storyline goes something like this. A guy gives a beautiful young girl a ride in his Chevy van. She lays down in the back and takes a nap. When she wakes up, she grabs him by the hand, and you can guess what happens next. Even though now, as an adult, the story makes me roll my eyes, I still find myself singing along — music is like that.
Back in my 70s teenage mind, there was no fear in being a barefoot girl hitchhiking on the side of the road. I was that girl, only I was wearing sandals, and there were six inches of snow on the ground. It scares me to even think about it now. Yikes, what was I thinking? That’s just it -- I wasn’t thinking, I was feeling and following my young heart with no fear about the “what ifs.”
I am much older and wiser now — at least I think I am. But sometimes, I get a flutter in my heart reminding me that free-spirited girl is still in there. Even though I’ve grown up and learned some things, I’ve discovered I really don’t know anything.
I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all- Joni Mitchell
So here I am, a grandma with a guitar, riding in a van, with no real plan, playing music for people who want to listen, reminisce, and connect with other human beings, and that means something to me.
Last night, we went to hear our friends play at a bar on the Bagnell Dam Strip at Lake of the Ozarks. The place was packed. Usually, I would be dancing, but last night I sat and watched (we had just come from playing a three-hour gig ourselves). The dance floor was filled with people of all ages. Young college-aged girls crowded up to the front of the stage. Twenty-something-aged boys danced with women who could be their grandmothers. A group of them cheered and gathered around my friend as she stood on the chair and danced. Music was the common ground. It blurred the lines of separation and the false idea that we are different in age, gender, color, status, or any other label.
We’re all in this together, trying to find a way to make things better when the world gets dark and gray. In my own time and your own way, we’re looking for the light of a brighter day, and it’s just a matter of time, the sun’s gonna shine, shine, shine.
- We’re All in This Together, Trisha Leone
Back to the song Chevy Van, it’s a catchy tune, one that gets stuck in your head. While I was searching for the lyrics I discovered that Dale Watson did a version, with some great lead guitar work, as well as Eric Church. I guess young, free-spirits are still a thing.
