150. Windows of Heaven

150. "Barracuda" by Heart

Two vehicles are inextricably connected to many fond memories of my teenage years--Old Blue and The Cuda. While there are a number of songs I associate with Old Blue--especially songs by Meatloaf--there isn't any particular song on the radio that makes me want to belt out its name. Not so for The Cuda. Thanks to the Wilson sisters, every time I hear the opening 30 seconds of "Barracuda," I'm transported in my mind to a highway leading out of Arimo with me in the back seat or, preferably, riding shotgun, with Joe at the wheel slamming down the gas pedal with his foot and looking out the windshield with an expression on his face that says "I OWN this road!"

I've probably got the wrong model year pictured here, but that's the back window I've got in my head.

Yes, I know the song is not about the car. It's about music industry sleaze-bags. Still, when Ann sings out "Barra-Cu-da!" I'm belting out the word too with nothing in mind but cruisin' Arimo in a white Plymouth Barracuda with a giant wrapped-down back window.

My friends' cars were part of who they were individually and who we were as a group. There was as much Old Blue in Sheldon as there was Sheldon in Old Blue. The same went for the Cuda, a fact that David Jane found out when he tried to pick a fight with you at a churchball game. You really wanna fight David? I don't think so. If the Cuda revs up in the middle of a brawl, you're going to end up roadkill! I also remember riding around in Chris's car--an Uncle Wayne gift that said "I love you so much, grandson, that I'm going to keep you safe by making sure you don't ride around town in Old Blue anymore."

Now, I'm very grateful that my father has always been good about making sure I've had a vehicle to drive. In fact, I've been driving one of Dad's pickups for the last ten years. But I never had a car of my own during my teenage years. I never had a vehicle that merged with my own personality and became part of who I was. Instead, it was my friends' vehicles that wormed their way into my heart and became part of my being. And that's why whenever this song comes on the radio--and it does a LOT--I swear I smell just a little car exhaust flow into the cab, and if I happen to be on a highway, the hammer goes down as the radio volume goes up.

Oooooo! Barra-CU-da!