Musicals are the worst. Nothing makes me want to dish out wedgies like a Broadway showstopper. Road trips are great, though — so great that they can make things like Roy Rogers and show tunes digestible.
Every summer, my family drives 10 hours to visit my grandparents in Maine. One year my mom DJed, which meant a mix of Neil Diamond, ABBA and the works of Rodgers and Hammerstein. It was not an easy trip. When we were five minutes from Grandma’s house, “Oklahoma!” came on. For some reason, we all started singing.
It was definitely just as disgusting as when characters break into song in musicals, but after spending all day sweaty and covered in Funyon crumbs, we were not our normal selves. Plus, singing that extended “Oooohhhhh-klahoma” was pretty fun. Years later, belting out our thoughts on the wind sweeping down the plains has become just as much a tradition as the trip itself. I deserve a wedgie every time.
