8/10/05; by Ruth Zaslow

Field Interviews

A 1996 Geo Prism. I got it when I was 16 from my parents. I originally thought I’d get my grandmother’s ’86 Chevy. But suddenly, my parents stopped talking about that. My dad started doing some research on other cars. One day, I was at the pool with a friend. The car was here when I got home.

I think the concerned parent part came through. When it came time for the car, I think they wondered if the Chevy would be safe. So my dad did his dad thing, his big research thing, into safety, cost and decided on the Prism. They got me a car at all because my mom was having to turn down piano students to drive me to school and back every day.

No, I was going to Holy Names, a private school. It’s about 20 minutes away. No busses. And no other kids from my neighborhood were going.

In high school, it was back and forth to school everyday, like I said, 20 minutes each way. I also worked as a camp counselor most summers in high school, so I’d drive there and back. These days during school, I have the car with me at my dorm. I was lucky and I even got a driving space. I mostly drive home to do laundry and get fed, or I drive other people around to places. I like driving.

It’s relaxing. I didn’t like high school at all. The car was time, my time for me, to prep and get ready for whatever was going to happen. The car was like my own little bubble.

Yeah, a place where no one could get to me. No parents, no teachers, no other kids at school.

I’d get in the car. I’d still be half asleep. The radio would come on when I started the car.

The popular stations—you know, that play the popular music. There are a couple of them that I like.

Well, if I have a test, I’m probably looking at notecards, studying. Studying, listening to music, trying to wake up. That’s about it.

(Groan)

Because I’m so happy to get away. I am overjoyed to back in the car. I can be by myself. I can process all the things that happened.

I’m usually listening to music again. Same stations, but louder, and I’m really listening, maybe singing along. One day a week I worked as a nanny, so I’d drive to pick up the kids and take them to their house and take care of them, then go home. Other days I drove straight home.

Actually, we never talked about it. Straight home was what I wanted to do.

The camp was in Wisconsin, less than an hour-and-a-half drive away. We’d go up on a Monday, stay all week, and come back on Friday.

Me and other counselors. The camp didn’t like to have too many cars on property, so they asked us to car pool if we could. So we were usually riding together.

The other counselors mostly didn’t have cars. So I did almost all the driving.

It’s kind of chaos. Everyone would be pretty excited. We’d be listening to music. Either CD’s, radio, or sometimes camp music, you know, camp songs.

Usually whoever’s sitting shotgun takes care of the music. But if people don’t like the choice, they’ll make him change it. Yeah, people are sometimes singing, camp songs or good songs on the radio. The music gets turned way up.

Cell phones. Everyone’s making last minute calls. See, you’re not allowed to talk on your cell on property at camp. So everybody’s calling their friends, making plans for the break.

The campers weren’t allowed to even have cell phones. They weren’t supposed to bring them, they had to turn them in if they had them, and they got in trouble if they didn’t. Most places on property cell phones didn’t work anyway. But if you went to one or two places at the edge of the property, the outskirts near the woods, they’d work.

The kids, no. But the counselors, yeah. You’d crouch down in the bushes with the phone. Pretty extreme measures.

Just time to be alone.

(laughter) I guess just to be with different people then.

Moms, mostly. Sometimes friends. But I mean, you already had friends there, that kind of support system, you know? You’ be surprised how many snuck away to call their moms.

The idea was: no technology. Like one little girl brought a hair straightener and they took it away from her. The kids were supposed to get away from the technology, get away from the pressures of their normal life.

I was a camper there for a couple of years. The first couple of days, it would be torture: “How will I live without my whatever?” But after you got over that, it was nice. Everyone learns to be much more I the present, enjoy what’s going on then. Plus it forces you to be with the people you’re with right there. You can’t switch out of that.

I might drive downtown, to the train station or airport. Last year, my boyfriend didn’t have a car, so if we went out to dinner, the movies, I’d drive. This year, he’ll have a car. Most of my friend’s don’t have a car on campus. I’m the only one on my floor with a car.

The radio is blasting, windows are rolled down, people are screaming at each other or on the phone over the music.

Sometimes. If we do, it’s a CD that I burned or someone else burned.

At school, we have a network for the dorms, dorm sharing for music. You can find anything you’d want on there. A male friend of mine hooked it up for me. My laptop burns CD’s, so I’ll sometimes do that. Usually though, I’m downloading to my IPod.

Probably 50% of the campus has one. People are always listening to them. Sometimes during lectures. That’s rude!

I like being able to zone out to the music wherever I am. I always have music going.

I don’t know. When I’m alone, it’s like the music is something else there. It’s distracting. And I like to play things that reflect my mood.

Yeah. Like sometimes in the morning if I have a test, I’ll put on something that will wake me up fast.

I got it at Christmas. My roommate wanted an IPod Mini and I went with her to check them out and then I really wanted one too. I told my parents that’s what I wanted for Christmas.

Well, probably people have them because some of my friends carry them all the time. But they’re not listening to them. It’s the radio or CD’s.

Sure. All the time. Like if someone does something stupid or funny, if someone makes a funny face or if we see a funny sign or something funny on the highway.

Well, not me, ‘cause I’m driving. But anyone who thinks something’s funny will take a picture.

Depends.

On who’s in the car and what the picture is of. Like if my friend Kira is in the car, but her boyfriend isn’t, and she thinks something’s really funny, she’ll take a picture and maybe send it to her boyfriend. But if he’s in the car too, she won’t send the picture.

More often not.

Sometimes nothing. But sometimes you might show it later. Like if we’re taking Rania to the airport and some funny things happened on the way back that people took pictures of, they might show them to her when she got back.

Like two weeks ago, I got my hair colored. So even before we got back in the car, my friend took a picture of me and we sent it to my boyfriend. He’s home in LA for the summer.

I like cars. I always have. When I was a baby, I'd wake up at night and the only way to get me back to sleep was to put me in the car and start it moving. I can't imagine not having a car. The main reason I decided not to go to the east coast for college is that I couldn't take my car with me. I wanted the freedom of the car. It's always been my escape. If I'm stressed out anywhere by anyone, I can get away.

A friend of mine is getting an Audi. It's been his dream like forever. But I've never had an ideal car. There's nothing I feel like I have to have. I don't feel like I need anything expensive, like a BMW or Mercedes. It's not like it's a status symbol.

A hundred thousand dollars? O.K., then I'd get a Range Rover. You'll laugh when you hear why. Because that's what I remember the mothers driving to pick up their kids at the private grade school I went to. I know they don't get good mileage. I know they're not that great. I just like them. I'd save the rest of the money for grad school.

More environmental safety. And those navigation systems and TV? That seems over the top to me. I see families with kids watching a movie in the car. That's weird.