Today’s theme is good jams from the 90s that mention shotguns, and the universal (?) rules of claiming the front seat of a friend’s car as you rush to Steak ‘N Shake or Denny’s at 10:30 p.m. on a Thursday in mid-summer.
Honestly, hearing this song when I was eight confirmed for me that I was gay. I didn’t tell anyone for years, but damn–the sheer thirstiness of this song, y’all. It resonated with me in high school.
When I was in high school, everyone drove and no one drove, all at once. Nick had weird, old-model foreign cars. Aaron drove high-mileage, low-quality American coupes. I drove big American tanks, with bench seats and cigarette burns. Drew drove little Japanese cars with kits. And in all these cases, if one was not driving (gas was expensive, sometimes nearing a dollar a gallon), one sought the front.
So there were rules. Calling “shotgun,” was easiest, most respected. A tie was broken by “Shotgun, bang! What’s up with that thang?”
Which, in hindsight, did not pay good homage to Madames Salt, Pepa and N.
The other story, with the song below, is related to cars but not about front seats. My friends S & J (who are remaining unnamed because S is an elementary school principal, and they are, always have been and [one assumes] always will be the kindest people, I don’t want to scandalize them)–we would sit still in their car, and begin this song, and after the fanfare, shake the damn car like there was no tomorrow.
Why it was so funny to us, I don’t know. But traditions are traditions, I guess.