In today's New York Times, Frank Bruni has a column about the value of spending extended periods of time with family members (http://nyti.ms/1UtRZly). He points out how often, only with such time, do private thoughts and feelings get expressed. He gives several examples, but one in particular caught my eye,
"I know how my 80-year-old father feels about dying, religion and God not because I scheduled a discrete encounter to discuss all of that with him. I know because I happened to be in the passenger seat of his car when such thoughts were on his mind and when, for whatever unforeseeable reason, he felt comfortable articulating them."
What intrigued me about this encounter was not the subject matter, but the setting---a car. I am convinced that almost all important conversations take place in cars. All of the serious discussions I have had with my sons have been in cars. Talks about sex, love, friendships, marriage, mistakes, divorce, death, dreams, failures, hopes. All car talks.
Why? For one, nobody can physically leave. You are stuck there together and you can't escape. There is a physical closeness that creates an intimate environment. At the same time, you aren't looking at each other. No eye contact creates a sense of distance, a comfortable detachment. A discussion can be focused, but not too intense. The driver has to focus at least part of their attention on the road and the passenger can look out the window at the scenery or passing cars. Long drives are especially good for these talks. Long stretches of sitting inevitably lead to boredom, which leads to thinking, which leads, when someone is sitting 2 feet away, to talking.
Bill Harley, the storyteller, has noticed the same thing. In his story, "Sex Ed," he argues that the only value of the invention of the internal combustion engine was to give parents a place to talk about sex with their kids, "because at 50 miles per hour, with the doors locked, they can't jump out."
The other value of cars is that children seem to believe there is a shield between the front and back seats. Sitting in the back, talking to their friends, you as the driver become invisible. A wealth of valuable information about the social dynamics of pre-teens can be gleaned from their conversations.
Where did these talks occur before cars? In buggies or wagons? Around the fireplace?
