Favorite moment with music in your car.

Sorry, not in a car, not even involving a stereo.  But I'm posting anyway.

My remember-forever moment came at a live listening experience. The Saratoga Performing Arts Center hosted the Philadelphia Orchestra every summer when I was younger and one season, Ormandy scheduled a concert with the group Oregon.

I still remember the band playing "Distant Hills" on stage with the Philadelphians. A beautiful rendition of a composition so well suited for orchestration. And the stunning, open-air acoustics of the SPAC amphitheater also certainly played a part in the quality of the experience.

But my personal key moment came toward the end, as the piece was slowly building to a climax, when a solo trumpet unexpectedly assumed the main melodic line. It’s impossible for a forum posting to truly convey the emotion impact of that moment -- the perfect phrasing and timbre, the expressiveness of the arrangement -- sorry. I still get carried away. I still mourn the fact that these shows were not, to my knowledge, recorded.

Today, even after 35 years, whenever I play Oregon’s "Distant Hills" album on my stupidly expensive stereo, I’m always reminded of that sublime moment. The studio recording is beautiful enough, especially when reproduced on a high-end system. But nothing will ever equal that live experience.

1976. Cruising to Warren Dunes (Michigan) in my '73 GrandAm listening to the Motor City Madman on cassette full blast on the way up. Allman Brothers and Santana on the way home.

A post from 2018:

Weather report: A Remark you Made (heavy weather) and I am transported back to a moonlit night sometime around 1984 driving a 1976 Monte Carlo with Heavy Weather in the 8-track, accelerating up the on ramp from 422 in Girard Ohio, getting on to I-80 West, past the dark, disused steel mills in the bright moonlight. The song sounded slower and sadder then. 

In mid 80's finally decided to make the big move to leave Boston.  Checked a U.S, map to see how far away it was possible to get from Boston.  On the map it was clear, San Diego was the furthest away.  Quit my job, bought a new car,and John Mellencamp, Steve Winwood, and Creedence tapes.

Played them non-stop on the 2 week drive through New Orleans, Texas, across the Rockies, to San Diego.  Best decision I ever made...

Finally a post has struck a nerve.  It was 1960 - that's right, 1960 - and a car full of my buddies and I were barreling down Pacific Coast Highway singing (actually screaming)  along to Alley Oop by the Hollywood Argyles at the top of our lungs. Truly a prime moment in my musical memory.

About that time I had a record player installed in my '54 Chevy Bel Air.  It was an option, I think, on the 1960 Chrysler. It held about 10 45's and played them with the tone arm under the records. Oh my God.  Imagine all the 50's rock and roll played,  what seemed to us, flawlessly and at a deafening volume.  It also played Johnny Mathis equally well, which served me beyond measure in  my post-adolescent dating activities.  I kept the 45's in a plastic trash can; I had about a 100.  One night my friend, Jerry (last name withheld)  barfed in that bucket.  Recriminations ensued.

Things took a turn when my grad school girlfriend acquired  a '56 Mustang with an 8 track player.  "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll"  moved me like no music I had ever heard before.  Even now, over 50 years later, I still get chills when I listen to it in comfort of my own living room.  But no esoteric stereo ever conceived will equal that thrilling 4 minutes on a rainy day in 1967 when I heard it the very first time on that lowly 8 track player