As far back as I can remember, my mom did it every time we went through the tunnel on Thompson Lane. Every single time, she would do it, and so would everyone else and it sounded like the worst symphony of all time.
I am talking about honking your horn when you drive in a tunnel. Doesn’t everyone do it? Well, apparently not.
“What is your problem, (bleep)?”
“Honking my horn in the tunnel. Do you not do that?”
“(bleep) no! You should have your (bleep) (bleep) kicked for that?”
“Oh OK. Have a great day!”
Seriously, am I missing something here? We were the only family who did this when you went through a tunnel? I don’t recall anyone back then who wanted to beat us up for honking the horn in the tunnel. In fact, if you didn’t do it, I thought there was something seriously wrong with you and your family. Maybe this is where we went wrong in America when we no longer started honking going through a tunnel.
Is it annoying? Yes. Is it fun? Absolutely and brings back some good memories of my youth. (Before you say, “Bless his heart, his family didn’t do much,” You would be correct, won’t argue.)
Now I don’t do it going under a bridge, I am not that much of a jerk but if there is a tunnel, I am honking the entire way and the one on Thompson Lane is the ultimate one for all of us that grew up in Nashville. My kids love it and we when are together, I honk the entire time. I just have to know if you did the same growing up when you were in the car with your parents or am I on an island with this.
I did it a few years ago when I was in Boston for the Titans playoff game and went through numerous tunnels and honked the whole way. Sure, I got flipped off a few times but heard others honking as well so that gives me hope for our country. Well, more than a few times I was flipped off but it was still pretty awesome.
Also, the Thompson Lane tunnel is very close to where my mother is laid to rest at Woodlawn cemetery so when I go that way to see her, I honk and let her know we are on the way. When I leave the cemetery, I honk again under the tunnel to say goodbye and I know somewhere she is smiling.
As the Nashville we knew growing up disappears–as I write this, I see the Ernest Tubb record store on Broadway is closing–let us keep this one rite of childhood that only makes us smile and think of simpler times.
So keep honking my friends. Keep honking.