Kim Wilbanks

You should never listen to Disney songs when driving with only your labradoodle for several hundred miles.

On The Road Again, Alone

My husband and I made our annual trek from Florida to North Carolina a few weeks ago.  We have a Jeep, which we drive when we’re in the mountains.  We drove it home last October because we didn’t want to leave it in North Carolina during the cold winter months.  That meant we had to get it back to the mountains for the season.

That is how I ended up driving several hundred miles with only my labradoodle — just me and Boone.

Boone is a great traveler.  He sleeps most of the time.  Occasionally, he will sit up and look at the changing scenery.  He doesn’t bark or make much noise.  He even tolerates my singing.

We followed my husband, making several stops along the way.  

Turn The Radio On

I took advantage of the alone time and listened to something other than the sports radio programs my husband enjoys.  I switched back and forth between The Message, a praise and worship station and the 70’s station.  I know, they are very different genres, but some of those 70’s hits I grew up with make a great driving track. 

As we got closer to our destination, about an hour out, I heard an ad for a new Disney hits station.  That sounded like fun.  I like Disney tunes.  My kids grew up listening to the Disney Sing-A-Longs so I knew the words to most of the songs.

First up was Donny Osmond singing “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan.  Then there was a lively tune from Moana.  I enjoyed “He’s A Tramp” from Lady and the Tramp. I could picture Peg, the Pekingese singing as she swished her tail.  Then, it happened.  The next song up was “Baby Mine” from Dumbo.  

Sad Songs

Dumbo is a sad movie to begin with.  Then, to listen to Mrs. Jumbo singing to her baby Dumbo was just too much.  And that 1940’s style of music is so melancholy.

The tears flowed.  I started thinking about my kids, all grown up and living far from me.  I thought about my own “baby” who’s about to turn thirty.  It must have been a sight to see — me driving down the road, crying and wiping my nose with a labradoodle looking out the window.

I had to put an end to that before my emotions spiraled out of control.  I switched back to the 70’s station and joined Donna Summer singing about the “Last Dance”.  My husband didn’t even know what he missed.