#104 Tiny Houses And Tiny Cars And You Help Me Make Music
I’m soliciting input on this poem.
Think of it as sort of like the New Yorker caption contest.
Except without the status of the New Yorker.
Or any prizes other than the knowledge that you are smarter than me.
Or funnier.
I’ve had this idea for a few weeks – examining the American craze for “tiny houses” and reconciling it with the fact that, in a lot of countries, whole families are raised in a space the size of the average American garage. Or even smaller.
Just another example of how we take for granted how much space, and stuff, we have.
I once had to ship a pedal harp to England and insisted on sending it in its original giant rigid shipping trunk. One that would have looked very much like this:
I was worried about the harp being damaged if it crossed the ocean without adequate protection.
She was worried about the fact that A) She had no place to store such a behemoth and B) Said trunk would not even fit through the tiny door of her less than capacious house.
I stood firm. And suggested perhaps she turn the trunk into a planter in the back garden.
I never heard if she took that advice.
Dealing with her was a reminder that, despite all the giant “Downton Abbey” type manor houses we might see on British TV, an awful lot of UK folks are living in little shoeboxes.
And I like the idea of somehow conveying how silly this newfound American fascination with small space living must look to those folks.
I played with a lot of different phrasing and am still not totally happy with the result.
So I’m asking for your help.
I’d love to hear if you have something better.
From Tiny Houses To Tiny Cars
This really did happen to me.
I was lucky enough to inherit my mother’s spunky little red Miata. (Complete with a license plate that read “OOOHH!” Supposedly this is what she said the first time she saw it.)
Immediately my friends tagged it as a midlife crisis car.
I bristled.
What is this obsession we have with seeing midlife as “the beginning of the end”?
Why can’t we look at every phase of our lives as an opportunity for celebrating everything we have and have yet to do? Instead of lamenting anything we don’t yet possess or may never get around to?
I really don’t feel that I experience bopping down country roads with the top down any differently than I would have if the car had come to me in my twenties or thirties.
Well, except for the fact that, had “younger me” been cruising around all summer, the heads that would have turned would have followed up with a flirtation.
Instead of what happens now.
Which is a lot of old guys calling out “Great car!”
They pretty much take one look at the driver and leave it there.
But I don’t care.
It’s not about them.
It’s about me.
And I love the car.
It doesn’t make me feel twenty.
But it does make me feel good.
I’ll take it.
Copyright© 2025 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
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Help Me Make Music!
I’m starting an experiment that is going to put you, my readers, front and center as I craft a new piece. Each week I’ll post a sample from my creative process and ask for your input.
I’m starting this week with two sound clips in which I experiment with chord progressions and rythmic styles etc. These are totally raw - just two minutes of playing from my head this morning.
I’d love your feedback - especially if you prefer one sample over the other.
From The Garden
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The first one. It took me back to my only trip to Spain in 2003. I was there for three weeks in Barcelona, Madrid, The Alhambra, Gibraltar, Tarifa. Brought back many wonderful memories, thank you. Pegge
Congratulations on your inherited Miata! I've had several Miatas (Miatae?); I bought my first one in 1991 (a year after they first came on the market). I loved the "open eyes" on the headlights, which they discontinued in 1998 when they started the "second generation". My favorite Miata was my 1998 in the "Evolution Orange" color. P.S. I preferred the second piece although both were beautiful.