By Lee Harris
Do you love driving? I’m not talking about a trip to the bank, or a short jaunt to work. I’m talking about a long-distance trek to points unknown—across the country, up and down the coast. A journey to unexplored territories.
You roll down the window, a Coke is clutched in your hand and the cruise control is set at 75. You could wind up in Boston, you may find yourself in Memphis. It doesn’t matter. The point of the trip is getting there. Anywhere.
There is a certain thrill to crossing the state line, a special joy in seeing roadside bovines, and a definite ecstasy is listening to Top 40 radio. Yes, Top 40 radio: home to zit commercials, Top 10 countdowns, obnoxious DJs, stupid contests and the sort of unpretentious music that blends in nicely with it all.
Top 40 has always been the coolest radio format on the dial. Sure, the Pixies, Butthole Surfers and Led Zeppelin have their virtues, but there’s something special about pop music. It’s the music of the masses, the tunes of the average Janes and Joes who just don’t care about artistic merit. These people care about Paula Abdul, Whitney Houston, Guns and Roses, Nelson and Madonna. These days they’re even hip to “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and that’s why Top 40 radio rules—you never know what to expect next.
Top 40 is the soundtrack of the nation, providing millions of Americans endless, simple pleasure as they travel the highways of the country. Rap, R&B, punk, heavy metal and Corey Hart all have a home together. Sing along with Michael Bolton, get down with OPP, swerve the car side to side with Prince. Don’t be afraid. In the house of Top 40, nobody has to be cool, nobody has to worry about integrity. In this house, everyone has a HOOT!
Sure, when you get home you slip the attitude back on and play that new Smashing Pumpkins album. But in the car, check the leather jacket at the door. On your cross-country journey you’ll probably be munching on Big Macs and Oatmeal Cream Pies, so why not listen to junk music, too?
