Riding Shotgun

A few months back, without a discussion or request, my 12-year old boy figured he would declare his own rite of passage. It was time to move up to the front seat next to Dad. Shotgun, baby.

Never mind he still only weighs like 20 pounds and probably could still use a car seat for the extra weight and security. And no one informed him about the proper family etiquette that pre-teen boys don’t get to assign Mom the backseat on the way to church (a double no-no).

But when just the two of us hit the road, he’s eager to co-pilot, roll the window down, and turn the radio up.

Which means he’s also found his own taste in music this year. Favorite artists, specific songs he learned by name (thanks Alexa), and a strong opinion on who’s cool or not (is that learned or hard-wired?). Just as I was about to introduce him to one of the all-time greats as I found an entire station devoted to Dave Matthews, he started crushing me for my style and rhythm. What just happened??

As he was quick to change the dial this week on our way to play golf, a new late summer hit started playing called – wouldn't you know it – “Shotgun” (by George Ezra). The chorus is super simple and with a fairly predictable tune, but like most pop hits, it quickly gets stuck in your head.

But there’s one line of the song that jumped out to me, and I’m guessing it will resonate with you too.

I’ll be riding shotgun

Underneath the hot sun

Feeling like a someone

And then it immediately dawned on me why my boy, and any boy for that matter, wants the front row attention. It makes him feel like a someone. Which I'm pretty sure is what we all want, whether we have our driver’s license yet or not.

Remember Ben Affleck’s little brother in Good Will Hunting (actually played by his little brother Casey)? He ran to the front seat when Matt Damon wasn’t home at the end of the movie. He finally made it to the big time. He was no longer in the background.

Personally I’m a bit of a control freak when it comes to letting someone else drive (particularly if that someone is married to me). I like to drive at my own pace and most certainly in my own space. Meaning, my cardinal rule of driving is to keep at least two car lengths between my car and the car in front of me. When someone else drives and breaks this unwritten rule (without my consent mind you), I literally start sweating. I might ask to carpool or Uber in student-driver cars in the future so I can have my own wheel and brakes. I’m sure that’s just me though.

My favorite line of the year so far is from the comedian George Carlin. He said that every driver is either a maniac or an idiot. Maniacs describe everyone driving faster than you, and idiots include anyone who is driving slower than you.

Which is such a perfect and frankly profound description of almost everything we think is right in our own eyes. That’s something I continue to battle all the time as I try to better understand and see things from other people’s perspective rather than just my own. As my closest friend and adviser would say, we might be seeing different colors, but we’re both looking at the same beach ball; we’re just looking at it from different angles.

But it’s my white-knuckle grip on the wheel that gets me in trouble the most. I gotta drive this show. I need to be the one to turn when I think it’s time to turn, or accelerate when I think there is nothing but open road ahead. I can’t get too close to the people around my car. My desire to be solely in control with no input or guidance puts me on a dangerous road to nowhere.

So as a daily reminder, I plan to toss the keys as I sing along with Carrie Underwood: “Jesus, take the wheel.” Actually, I can’t stand country music and admittedly don’t really sing any of her tunes (my boy would really crush me then, justifiably so). But I like her lyrics and commitment to letting go.

Jesus, take the wheel

Take it from my hands

'Cause I can't do this on my own

I'm letting go

So give me one more chance

And save me from this road I'm on

Jesus, take the wheel

Wanna feel like a someone? Maybe it’s time to either move over or jump up to the front right (unless you’re British of course).

First to call shotgun wins.