Wyn Drabble: Music can drive a message home

In the Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, T S Eliot wrote, "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons". Of course, nobody knows what he meant because poets are not big on clarity. Nor did his poetry really get him far anyway: I should point out, just for the record, that Eliot is currently dead.

He also said, in the same poem, "Then how should I begin to spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?" I rest my case regarding poets.

Despite their lack of clarity, poets still influence others and Thomas Stearns has done it to me. Obviously influenced by this famous poet, I am about to write, "I have measured out my trip with record albums".

Last Saturday, I had a very long drive. How long? Fourteen full CDs long. Or to convert that to old money, about 900km.

And before anybody complains that I am not setting a good example by publicising a drive of that length, I did it very responsibly and sensibly with long breaks of at least an hour each, during which I walked or swam or shopped. In fact, the 10 hours of driving was spread over about a 16-hour period.

The cocoon of the car has become my main album-listening environment. With the volume high, the interior of the car fills with sound and listening carefully to 14 albums can make a long drive not only bearable but downright enjoyable.

The only other intellectual stimulation - well, apart from wondering how horses sit up to the tables in a roadside "Equestrian Cafe" - came from mulling over the effectiveness of the roadside billboard campaign to slow down motorists.

"How fast are you going?" said the first sign.

I certainly prefer the car interior to headphones. I'm always a little unnerved when I see joggers or walkers with their skull enclosed in headphones, effectively blocking out all aural warnings of imminent dangers. You can double that risk in Wellington with the added peril of the silent trolley buses.

"Too fast? Slow down."

Even in the safety of my own home, I prefer not to use headphones. Yes, the music may sound great but I always feel someone could walk in and burgle the house while I'm grooving to track three on a Pink Floyd album.

"You speed, people die."

At least the signs made me check my speedo. Passing that one, I was bang on 100km/h. Not so the Audi which screamed past me.

I certainly did not feel alone during the drive. How could I with Shawn Colvin, Amos Lee, Lucinda Williams, Ray LaMontagne, Justin Townes Earle, James Taylor, Thomas Oliver Band, Dixie Chicks, John Hiatt, Jackson Browne, Paul Simon, Dave Matthews Band and Gillian Welch?

Alert (and perhaps pedantic) readers will want to point out to me that I have named only 13 artists. Correct. There were two Dave Matthews Band albums.

"Speeding? No excuses."

Even though my focus was on my music, I found a part of my brain free enough to analyse the billboard campaign. The campaign's creator certainly favours questions and imperatives. And all the signs are linked by the background shot of the police officer pointing his radar gun and an alliterative, imperative slogan in the bottom right hand corner, "Reduce the Risk".

A nice touch too, to have a couple of those big digital screens up on the side of the road, one daubed with gangsta-style graffiti. Both read, "Thank you for managing your speed". I wonder whether the Audi driver felt a pang of guilt.

From the musical depths of my cocoon, I decided the Audi driver needed a different approach by a different advertising magnate or wordsmith. T S Eliot's out, not just because of his current state of deadness but because he left so many questions unanswered: "Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?"

May I suggest a list of 13 songwriters (and many more) who could do the job admirably? And there would be no need for landscape-blotting billboards. It would all be done through song from inside the car. Let Paul Simon lead the way:

"Slow down, you're movin' too fast ..."

Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, public speaker and musician.