Your kids really are listening...even to the music you play for them

 

Recently, my son Jared texted with this request:

"Can you make a playlist of the songs you played in the van circa 2002? Trying to recall but can't remember some."

When I used to drive the kids around in our Dodge Grand Caravan, I would play for them a range of older music, some of which they would sing along to. At the time I didn't give it much thought, but now I realize those minivan singalongs are probably the stuff of fun childhood memories for them.

Fortunately I didn't have to do too much work because I remembered my daughter Chloe had already made such a playlist, which she dubbed "scott's minivan." I asked her to send it to me (see the screenshot above), and I in turn forwarded it to Jared.

He and I agreed that with only one or two exceptions, Chloe had pretty much nailed the songs in heaviest rotation on family road trips back in those days.

In alphabetical order, these were the tunes on the playlist:

• Brown-Eyed Girl - Van Morrison
• Copacabana - Barry Manilow (OK, OK...a guilty pleasure)
• Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police
• Jackie Wilson Said - Van Morrison
• Jump - Van Halen
• Love Shack - The B-52s
• Low Rider - War
• Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds - The Beatles
• Mack the Knife - as covered by Sting (an odd pick, but so catchy)
• Maneater - Hall & Oates
• Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da - The Beatles
• The Reflex - Duran Duran
• Road Man - Smash Mouth
• Roxanne - The Police
• When Doves Cry - Prince
• Ya (Rest in Peace) - Colin Hay
• You Make My Dreams Come True - Hall & Oates

The list largely reflects my penchant for the music of the 60s, 70s and 80s, but more importantly, these are songs with strong melodies and, in many cases, fun choruses with which even little kids could sing along.

Sometimes we wonder whether the things we tell our kids really stick with them. My answer is that, heck, if Barry Manilow stays in their heads, your important bits of parental advice have to have gained a foothold in their little brains somewhere.

Is it strange that I don't care in the least about what car I drive?

I spend a lot of time on LinkedIn these days because I'm always interested in what's going on in my industry, what former co-workers are up to, and what's generally trending in the business world. One of my favorite things is when LinkedIn users conduct polls on particular questions or issues.

I almost always participate in these polls, not so much because I want to share my own opinion as I want to see what others think.

Recently, though, I came across a LinkedIn poll I had to skip over. The person asked, "If money was no object, what car would you buy?" The choices were Cadillac, Porsche, or Other.

I was looking for the fourth option, which would have been "I don't even begin to care."

It is common for people to talk about their "dream car." Do you know what my dream car is? One that will reliably get me where I want to go. The make and model, the color, the styling, the bells and whistles, etc. are of virtually no consequence to me.

I just don't care.

This becomes readily apparent when you look at the cars I've driven over the last 3 1/2 decades. They have ranged from a Chevy Chevette and a Dodge Omni early on to a couple of minivans and, in recent years, Honda sedans.

My last two cars have been a black Honda Accord and a black Honda Civic.

And I couldn't have been happier with them, though I honestly don't give them that much thought because...well, there are a lot of things that are way more important to me, I guess.

As a Father's Day present, Terry arranged to have my Civic detailed by Nathan's Automotive Detailing. We've used them before and they do an outstanding job.

My car was so clean inside and out that it made the huge dent in the right rear quarter panel and the various scratches on the exterior really stand out (Virtually all of these blemishes, by the way, have been caused by some combination of my kids, but we won't get into that.)

I feel like I should care about dents and scratches, but I just can't work up the energy to make any of it matter.

Now, the fact that it's mid-July and there won't be any hockey for another few months? That matters to me, and it's depressing.

We each have our priorities.

I don't get the anti-minivan thing

Well, I mean, I sort of do. But in the end, you have to admit that most of the reasons people resist buying and/or being seen in a minivan are vain and (forgive me for saying this) stupid.

And I say this as someone who does not currently own a minivan. But I did for many years. Many, many years. Nearly 20 years, I think.

We ran our last minivan – a Dodge Grand Caravan – virtually into the ground. It served its purpose well over the 11 years Terry drove it, transporting kids from place to place, taking us on a number of vacations, and even hauling heavy things on occasion.

I drove minivans myself for a time and never felt especially self-conscious about it. Because honestly, who exactly was I trying to impress? To whom did I ever feel the need to express myself as a rugged Cowboy Man driving a big ol' macho SUV? (Answer = Nobody)

Speaking of SUVs, we own one now in the Honda Pilot, which I like very much. But I'm not looking to go off-roading in it (and if you're a suburbanite like me, you aren't, either). SUVs are spacious and tend to drive well, but I don't feel any "cooler" or higher up on the social ladder than I did when I was driving a minivan.

So why are so many people so down on minivans? Because it brands you as a "boring" parent? Because it says you've settled down? Because it says you're responsible and don't care what people think about you?

EXCITING REVELATION: Those are all good things.

Hey, it's obviously up to you what car you buy. And it's probably none of my business if you're a shallow person who defines themselves by the vehicle they drive.

It's simply my job to point it out.