My son and I invented a travel theory this weekend. Well, I invented it. He just stared at his phone while I explained it to him.
Let me back up.
We were driving to pick up dinner on Sunday night, and I made an unusual decision: radio only, no Spotify. I was craving something analog, the unpredictability of it. Windows down, open road, 90s style.
My son protested and even tried hijacking my decision, but...A song came on. We turned it up, listened and danced, tapping on the window sills and smiling. Then it was over.
"How do we figure out what song that was?" he asked.
The song was already over, so Shazam was useless, and we didn't have a modern solution. I told him to call the radio station. He looked at me like I'd suggested we send a fax. Call a stranger, unprompted, to ask a question? This was not in his operating manual. He is thirteen and has never done such a thing!
He uncomfortably called anyway. A woman answered — genuinely delighted that a human being had dialed in. He asked about the song. She told him. And then, because someone had actually called, she kept going. She read him five more songs she'd just played, volunteered her personal favorites, told him which artists to look up, and thanked him for calling before she hung up.
He'd asked one question. He got six answers and a real moment of connection with a stranger who was happy to be asked.
That's when I thought: this is exactly what most people are missing when they plan a trip.
