Here’s an incident I think about a great deal.

One day, several years ago, I was driving to the grocery store on a Sunday morning and stopped at a light. I happened to look in my rearview mirror and had a clear view of the woman – about my age, wearing glasses like me – in the driver’s seat of the car behind me.

She was grooving.

Dancing her little heart out. Shoulders shaking, hands waving, singing with passion. I flipped around on the radio – remember when people still listened to the radio in cars? – and found the song that matched her movements and lip-syncing perfectly, and suddenly my own car had the right soundtrack.

(It was Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega, in case you were wondering.)

One, two, three, four, five
Everybody in the car, so come on, let’s ride

It was just so delightful. I couldn’t stop smiling.

Because I totally get it.

When I drive, I sing. It’s not possible to drive in silence. I boogie, I jitterbug, I disco, I conga.

And mostly I belt. I love a good belter. Bops also welcome.

I think my kids are used to it. I rarely feel shame.

But I do look around whenever I stop at a light to see if the drivers in front of me, or beside me, are looking. It’d be embarrassing, but also, a bit of shared joy.

It hasn’t happened yet, but I like to think someday I’ll be somebody else’s Mambo No. 5 lady.

Keep an eye out for me!