Weekday mornings throughout my childhood always meant the same routine. 6:30 a.m.: Wake up, brush my teeth, get dressed. 6:45 a.m.: Breakfast and TV. 7:15 a.m.: Get in my dad’s car and jam out on the way to school.
Morning car rides with my dad were always, and continue to be, some of the most entertaining moments in my life. For 30 minutes a day, my dad and I could spend quality time goofing off to the radio. He introduced me to a variety of his favorite car tunes on the way to school in the mornings, many of which I still regularly enjoy on walks to class or during unbearably long study sessions. Elton John. Michael Jackson. The “Rent” soundtrack (the entirety of which we sing in harmony). But one song stuck out above them all: “A Fifth of Beethoven” from “Saturday Night Fever.”
This is not the typical classical piece you know and love. Oh no. It may start with the same iconic four notes. But suddenly, a syncopated drum beat leads into a funky guitar backup to the rhythmically remixed song that fits with the rest of the film’s disco soundtrack. And that’s not even the best part of listening to it with my dad in the car: Throughout the song, we vocally “play” the instruments (as much as we can on the highway).
The bridge features one of my favorite (and highly underappreciated) instruments: the vibraslap. This beautiful feat of percussion sounds like what a cartoon character getting whacked in the head looks like. It is truly beautiful. And so, as the bridge plays, I have assigned myself the duty of clapping along to said vibraslap (which is, frankly, still difficult for me with the song’s complicated and annoyingly inconsistent syncopation). Meanwhile, my dad whistles along to the synthesized melody. He is a shockingly talented whistler.
This unspoken performance agreement is one of the many aspects of my relationship with my dad that make it unique. We constantly send each other “Star Wars” memes or complain about Omega’s stupid decisions when we do a group watch of “The Bad Batch” on Disney+ (seriously, why do any of the clones ever leave her on her own?). We quote iconic videos like “Dog of Wisdom” and “Seals with Subtitles.” We moo at each other to say “I love you,” or just send each other cow emojis for short (don’t ask how that started; I don’t remember). When we play video games together, he lets me take over the controller when he doesn’t quite understand how it works. He even lets me take over his signature instrument — the guitar — sometimes when we play “Rock Band,” even though I’m usually on drums.
It’s not just the goofy things that make our relationship meaningful. He has also worn a pride pin on his work lanyard every day since I came out as Queer to him and my mom during junior year of high school. And when I came out again as Max a few years later, he barely batted an eye. He even called me a fanboy as I infodumped about this year’s Tony nominations. That may not seem like a big thing, but trust me, I noticed. He listens to me rant about the assignments that are stressing me out over FaceTime for as long as I can ramble on. And we’ll be graduating in the Big House at the same time, when he finishes his master’s in Applied Data Science and I finish my Bachelor of Arts in Drama and Film, Television and Media.
While some of my best memories with my dad may be silly, to say the least, they all come back to what’s truly important about our relationship: love. Whether it’s music, video games or memes, all of these memories represent our connection as family, as father and child and as friends. And “A Fifth of Beethoven” serves as a time capsule of those morning car rides that hold so much love for my dad.
Who needs traditional showcases of love when you have disco parodies?
Daily Arts Writer Max Newman can be reached at jqnewman@umich.edu.