A Little Something For Them Cars That Be Bumpin'

Pull out of the driveway of our house, drive to the nearest main cross-street, and head west towards the freeway. Go over the freeway and drive just a few more blocks, and there on your right, standing on a corner, you will find the daycare where my boys spent their weekdays for a time, the daycare from which we eventually withdrew our boys for a variety of concerning issues, the least of which included an inability to spell our eldest’s name right.

Despite the close proximity of that daycare to our house, I don’t drive past it all that often. I’m not avoiding it. I’m not worried about them giving me dirty looks as I go past. I just don’t have much reason to go that way very often. But every time I do go past that little converted housed, I seem to recall this one particular afternoon. 

Like any other weekday, I was there to retrieve Los Boyos. As I pulled up, I felt it: bass. It was rumbling out of a car parked across the street from the daycare, shaking the vehicle’s tired frame and rattling its trunk with each hit. A woman exited the daycare with a couple of kids and walked down the driveway. I got out of my car and realized that this was that type of screwed up hip-hop that’s slowed way the hell down so as to magnify the bass, making it almost impossible to discern any non-bass elements in the music. Now I love bass and I love hip-hop, but I will go on record as saying that this particular brand of both is the most pointless style of music ever to tap an eardrum. I hate it. Hate. It. Hate. Hate. Hate. Six more pages of the word hate. That ought to cover it.

And that lady? The one that I saw coming out of the daycare? With the two kids? Yeah, she went over to the rattling car, opened the door, and shooed her kids into their seats. And to my surprise, with the door open, I was now able to actually hear some of the lyrics. They were slowed way down, like a tape playing at below half speed. It’s been a while, so my memory’s a bit fuzzy, but as I recall, it went something like:

    Bitches suck dick (indiscernible) with the motherfuckin (gunshot sample)
    Bitches suck dick (indiscernible) with the motherfuckin (gunshot sample)

    (Rumble, rumble, and repeat)

Or something like that. The doors shut and the car drove off to spread joy and happiness throughout our fair city. Yes, a lovely memory. Thank you for letting me share it with you.