Singing in the car at the top of my lungs

If I were a therapist, helping crazies work out their issues, I think a regular conversation would go something like this:

Dr. Bratten: "So what seems to be troubling you?"
Patient: "I am feeling depressed/lonely/anxious/annoyed/frustrated/angry/miffed/over life and dealing with it in a grown up way"
Dr. Bratten: "And what have you been doing to cope with your depression/loneliness/anxiety/annoyance/frustration/anger/miffery/over-lifeness?"
Patient: "Well, I'm going to a therapist, that's something, right?"
Dr. Bratten: "Have you tried singing?"
Patient: "Singing?"
Dr. Bratten: "In the car."
Patient: Confused pause
Dr.Bratten: "At the top of your lungs."
Patient: "Well... no, Doctor, can't you just prescribe me something?"
Dr. Bratten: "Go. Sing. In the car. At the top of your lungs. Come back to me if the problem persists."

And I'd never see the patient again.

That's because if there's ever a problem in life, it most likely can be solved by a healthy jam session in the car, singing at the top of your lungs.  If not solved, at least watered down enough to provide distance and/or perspective.  It's alcohol for the sobriety corner.

As I've mentioned, I've been on an audio book binge, which is great, and I love it, and my brain is getting bigger and more world-wise by the day.  But earlier this week I was side-swiped by one of those perilous funks that numbs everything - the good, the bad, and everything in between.  Listless I think is what they call it.  Robot.  Not wanting to do anything but stare at the wall and wait for time to speed up again.  I'm sure PMS had something to do with it, and likely the fact that I've careened off the gluten-free wagon.  But whatever the cause, I took a day off of work (for mental health) and waited for the gloom to pass.

It wasn't until Thursday, with a day full of superb appointments in the company Jeep.  No CD player (not even a tape player, that's how high class we roll at FLL).  Just the radio and lots of time on the road.  By myself.

I think you can guess what happened next.

Jet happened.  Are You Gonna Be My Girl.  Drumming happened.  Then Come On Eileen.  Singing like a muppet happened (I was alone, who's gonna judge!).  That remix of Somebody I Used To Know and an attempted beat box happened.  An angsty, seat belted gyration to Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood happened.

And life is better.

Best prescription around.

In honor of my week, here are the best scenes from movies where people are singing in the car.  Most are with company, but don't be mistaken.  Practice on your own and it makes company all the better.

Tommy Boy "Don't You Remember You Told Me You Loved Me Baby"
Don't fight it.  Cry if you have to.  Knowing the words is not the most important.


Wayne's World "Bohemian Rhapsody"
 Dance moves are not limited by seat belts.  Make it work!


Almost Famous "Tiny Dancer"
I love this scene.


Also:
Dumb and Dumber singing Mockingbird
Meg Ryan singing along with the radio (before this clip starts) in Sleepless in Seattle (you should still watch it though because it's melt your heart amazing)
Tom Cruise feeling FREE in Jerry McGuire