Retreat

We were in one of those radio station dead zones as we drove through the middle of the New Mexico desert. I had my choice between Spanish channels (which all sounded the same to my monolingual ears), country stations (which all sounded the same to my alternative-oriented ears), static and the very occasional classic rock station.

[flip]

sssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshhhhshshshshshshs

[flip]

John McCain: "Me gustaría mencionarles sólo un par de cosas, y en primer lugar, un poco de franqueza. Como bien saben, estamos.....

Great, you can't even get away from politics in the middle of the desert, i muttered to myself as i changed the station.

[flip]

Well I'm goin' back as soon as I can raise the cash
Cause Canada is not a place that I wanna had in my past
Canadian women Canadian clubs...

Ugh! Somehow i just couldn't believe there was country music in Canada. Especially Tom T. Hall. I petulantly decided i was never going there as i turned the dial again.

[flip]

I want you smothered want you covered like my Waffle House hashbrowns
Come quicker than FedEx never reach an apex like Coca-Cola stock you are inclined
To make me rise an hour early just like Daylight Savings Time

Yay, Bloodhound Gang! This station couldn't be bad! I decided to leave it here for a while. I noted my mother in the driver's seat next to me shifting uncomfortably as the sexual innuendo poured out of the speakers thick as molasses in the Arctic circle. Good. That's what she gets for dragging me to this Hell-hole in the first place, i thought spitefully. I could be attending the birthday party of the most popular girl in school, but NO! Instead, we're driving out to the middle of nowhere for a stupid retreat. What the hell are we retreating FROM, anyway? HE'S the one who retreated from US with that slut who was only three years older than me. I glared at my mother, silently blaming her. You don't need a spiritual retreat, you NEED a face lift. . .then maybe you could keep your man, i thought venomously at her. Somehow she always drove the ones i liked away.

Instant karma paid me a visit and ruined the sanctuary i'd found on the radio dial, punishing me for my unfair thoughts. I cringed when i heard the familiar chorus from that awful Argent song.

Hold your head up. . WOAAAH! Hold your head high. . .

"Who chooses this crap, anyway?! How do you go from Bloodhound Gang to THIS", i burst out, shattering the silence of the last six hours. My mother arched her eyebrow at me and turned the radio off.

"We could always just talk, you know," she pointed out.

I cursed my forgetfulness as i pined for the CD collection i left sitting on the couch out in plain view, positive if i left it there i would remember it as i walked out the door. I sat there, not even looking at her. The minutes ticked by, and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Have it your way," she sighed, trying to sound indifferent. She switched the radio back on.

. . . results may vary.

I heaved a great huff of teenage frustration as i redoubled my efforts to find something tolerable to listen to. We still had another two hours to go.

Week 32 Topic: Results may vary...
bonus points
(hard, 2 points): Incorporate a trip to Canada.
(easy, 1 point): Include a Blood Hound.