What's the matter Shazam? You're not cultured enough to recognize classical music?

Boobs in a Disney flick?! I don't believe it... 

I met my boyfriend and his family for dinner in Marleton, which is way down Route 70 west, past NJ's fragrant farmlands and some road side fruit stands that reminded me of the kind of stuff you'd find along sunburned dusty Georgia roads.

It gets really rural out there.

After dinner him and I hop into our separate cars with him leading. We head off down the single-lane part of Route 70 on our way back to Brick with an hour drive stretched out before us.

I hate single lane highways for the simple reason that nobody in front of me ever drives fast enough to make me happy.

Didn't anybody ever tell you that it's
RUDE TO STARE?

Even if they're speeding.

I get this restless trapped feeling that gets me all full of road rage anxiety whenever I'm stuck behind another vehicle.

Regardless, I decide to calm myself the eff down during the drive by tuning my car radio to the classical music station.

And it itches at my memory in a familiar way.

Which is weird because the only experience I have with classical music is what I've absorbed from watching Disney's Fantasia high.

Curious, I whip out my cell phone and open up Shazam, a music recognition application that "listens" to whatever music is playing using your cell phone's speakers and then identifies it. An error message slowly follows "Sorry, a match couldn't be found to your music."

I was annoyed and so I tried it again 4 times with the same results.

What's the matter Shazaam? You're not cultured enough to recognize Bach when you hear it? I thought.

So I texted my boyfriend who was in the car ahead of me (oh yeah, forgot to mention that he's the guy driving too slow...)

"Shazaam blows at identifying classical music," I texted.

"I'm listening to Gangsta's Paradise," he replied.

"I got Bach on," I texted.

What's up!

"Similar," he replied.

I briefly contemplated our difference in musical tastes, thinking smugly that I win the 'being cultured contest' and then quickly dismissed that thought remembering that he's the one who chastises me for picking my nose in public. So much for me thinking I'm all refined.

"Bach's my homie."

"Coolio's my dog."

Then I noticed that I was swerving because texting and driving are not cool.

I made a mental note to go home and watch Disney's Fantasia.