“In 1929, American Paul Galvin, the head of Galvin

Manufacturing Corporation, invented the first car radio. In 1930, the

Galvin Corporation introduced the first commercial car radio, the

Motorola model 5T71, which sold for between $110 and $130 and

could be installed in most popular automobiles. The name Motorola

was created by Paul Galvin combining the term “motor” for motion and

“ola” for sound.”1

That night, the silence was suffocating as we drove down Calgary Trail in your

green blur of a CRV. We had spent a total of five hours together at the concert and had

returned to something resembling “friends,” but I saw that it was all an inevitable façade

and we’d reverted back to the uncomfortable tension once more. You reached above me

to rummage through your CD collection, and I retracted into my seat to avoid any

1
Wikipedia.com
physical contact. It isn’t because I think you’re an asshole: that’s just how things are. It’s

because you’ve burned me in the past, and we will never be that close again. I won’t let

you in so near.

You wouldn’t look at me as you made a choice and fed the disc into the pursed

lips of the stereo system. You scanned through and found the number of the song that

would say the unspoken words between us. At that moment, I wondered if ex-couples in

the 1930s and 1940s used the same methods to communicate.

The silence was cut in half by a strange voice speaking even stranger words, but

they fit the atmosphere.

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set

yourself on fire.

Except “fire” sounded more like “fi-ya,” that of a British person unable to

articulate the “r” sound. I almost laughed in spite of my determination to keep my

guarded and armoured front intact. The sounds of a harmonica, piano and violin flooded

the car, and the music took over. The same feelings that rushed at me like a stampede of

elephants when I had entered your car earlier returned: what am I doing here? Why did I

decide I’d be okay spending time with you again? Just as I thought it couldn’t get worse,

my god, there were lyrics to this song, and they were speaking to me through those dusty

black speakers on the dash.

2
 God it was strange to see you again, introduced by a friend of

a friend.

Smiled and said “yes I think we’ve met before.” in that instant

it started to pour.

The sounds reverberate in the hollow space of the car, where the two of us sit but

we’re not there together. We’re two separate people, forever divided by the past. This

scenario felt all too familiar. Two months, four days and maybe an hour and a half ago,

my hand would have rested on your knee as we’d sing along loudly and badly to the

music spewing out of the speakers. You’re still the tall, blonde, blue-eyed boy I fell in

love with three and a half years ago. But that’s the problem. You’re still a boy. Tonight

you said that you hadn’t seen me in three weeks, and you couldn’t remember the last time

we had been apart so long. Quite frankly, I wanted to shrug my shoulders and say, “who

cares?” But I didn’t say that. I don’t know why you’re trying to be so nice and ignore

the fact that things have changed completely. I gave some sort of monosyllabic

sympathetic answer. I was scared of driving with you as you weaved in and out of lanes

like a maniac, moves that would have made me laugh in a time that had long since

passed. The even tempo of the music made me relax slightly.

Captured a taxi despite all the rain, we drove in silence across

Pont Champlain.

And all of that time you thought I was sad, I was trying to

remember your name.

3
 “Car audio has been through quite an evolution. In the sixties, it

began as a hobbyist thing- people climbing in and out of cars, running

wires, posting antennas: funky little speakers in dilapidated old

boxes.”2

I’ve tried to catalogue moments in our relationship based on good and bad, in an

attempt to justify to myself and anyone who asks why it lasted for so long. Three years is

quite a long time to spend with one person when you’re so young. Especially when there

are so many dark splotches that stain the light ones on the page. There were good times,

there had to be. I’d like to say that I stayed with you because I loved you so much; maybe

that’s true, but maybe I was just momentarily blinded by lust and “feelings.” Who

knows.

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin. You tried to reach

deep but you couldn’t get in

At that moment, I felt like I was in High Fidelity, and John Cusack was counting

down the top five break-up songs of all time, each recorded and labelled neatly on my

very own mix-tape. God, can this night be any more cliché? I’M NOT SAD.

And now you’re outside me you see all the beauty, repent all

your sin

It’s as if you are finally seeing who I really am, and it’s too late to fix what’s been

done.

2
Yahoo.indiacar.com

4
 “The movement to add more than just a basic radio to a car largely originated on

the west coast of the United States in the late 1970s. Several early manufacturers and

enthusiasts began building audio amplifiers to run on twelve volts (the standard

voltage in automotive electrical systems).”3

It’s nothing but time and a face that you’ll lose, I chose to feel

it and you couldn’t choose

I realized shortly after I broke up with you that it had always been my choice to

walk away. I don’t think you would have ever done it, and you never took me seriously

before.

I’ll write you a postcard; I’ll send you the news. From the

house down the road, from real love.

I’d like to know the definition of “Real Love.” If what we had was “real” love, I

don’t ever want to be in love again. You are so lucky you didn’t install those subwoofers

in your trunk; I would have thrown them out the window by now. The music became so

quiet I could barely hear it.

Live through this and you won’t look back

I’m sorry, but I don’t love you anymore.

Live through this and you won’t look back

I don’t know how you couldn’t have seen this coming.

Live through this and you won’t look back

3
”Wikipedia.com

5
 When I look at you, I feel cold, and nothing.

“Car audio competitions started in the early 1980s in a quest to

find the loudest and/or most outrageous installations. For example, in

1985, Wayne Harris famously modified a 1960 Cadillac Hearse to

feature several 24-inch subwoofers. Little consideration was given to

sound quality early on, but in the early 1990s, several organizations,

including IASCA, began car audio competitions focusing on sound

quality.” 4

The last place I want to look is in your direction, so I let my eyes wander to the

right side mirror. Back at the road passing, at the past three years that slowly broke me

apart and where we’re going to be in three years’ time. In three years’ time, we may have

twenty CD changers for our car stereos instead of just six. Maybe they already do have

those. I don’t. I hope to have regained my voice by then, and proudly proclaim that I am

closer to being whole again. Maybe we’ll be able to be friends. Maybe not. Forever

people will leave things to musicians to say that they aren’t themselves able to verbalize,

and then blast those masterpieces through the airwaves.

“The seventies also saw the rise-and demise- of the dreaded

eight-track player. Most of these were mounted below-dash, in all their

chromey, plastic-fantastic glory.”5

People have spent and, I trust, will continue to spend nights with their exs in cars

listening to songs oozing from their stereo equipment that are somehow supposed to

explain the great mystery of what went wrong. It’s better that way. It’s more eloquent.
4
Wickipedia.com
5
Yahoo.indiacar.com

6
I hated you for making me feel guilty for this termination. I should hate you for the

hundreds of things you never said and never did. I wish you’d stop trying so hard to

befriend me, especially now of all times; It makes life too complicated.

A cresendo brought a tidalwave of perspective in my direction.

There’s one thing I want to say so I’ll be brave. You were what I

wanted, I gave what I gave.

Do you remember when you refused to come with me to the hospital after my

sister had her pacemaker installed last summer? That you weren’t there for me when I

was scared to death to go alone? You said you were busy. I can’t believe that wasn’t a

clue to me that I needed out; I’m smarter than that. I’m just too fucking nice – or

perhaps I’m weak. I can feel the ash in my lungs, slowly burning holes in my esophogus,

and I roll down the window to breathe. If I spontaneously combust, I’m blaming you.

I’m not sorry I met you

I’m not sorry it’s over

I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save

I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save.

That did it. I wanted out of the car that very second before I could show any sign of

sadness. Why the hell did you play this song?

Then I gave it a moment’s thought. Could it be that you finally understand how I

felt and why enough was enough? Why couldn’t I have put it that way? Damn you…

7
whoever you are. Honestly, I do feel a release of sorts. Finally, I feel that my decision

was the right one, and maybe, just maybe, you understand too. I’m NOT sorry I met

you, but I’m also not sorry that it’s over and that there’s nothing to save. This

relationship went into cardiac arrest months ago, and I chose to put it on life support

because I couldn’t bear to make you sad. But I was sad for a long time, and I don’t

deserve to be sad anymore. )

The song ended and the empty silence returned. I chose to break the silence:

partially because I like the sound of my own voice, but moreso because it seemed like

something needed to fill in that dead space.

“Who was that?”

“Stars. Good song, eh?”

“Yeah. Amazing.”

“If you want a copy of the CD, I’ll burn you one.”

All I heard was “I’ll burn you.” I wanted to say, “you already have.” Instead I just

stared at the black speaker that had concluded its speech. The silence hung, stale, and I

let it speak for me.

(2,303 words)

Works Cited:

www.Wikipedia.com (accessed 30 Dec. 2005)

www.Yahoo.indiacar.com (accessed 1 Jan. 2006)

“Your Ex-Lover is Dead” by Stars