Train - “Drive By”

  We start off with lead singer Pat, sitting in a fancy house with a stunning view, as he and his hair talk to a not-happy woman on the phone. Then again, she sounds vaguely British, and those people are always disapproving of something. Anyway, she signs off, and Pat decides that it’s the perfect time to run to his garage and pull the car cover off a vehicle. (You’d think he had people on his staff who could do that for him.)

  The car turns out to be a ‘67 Firebird convertible (this is the part where vintage car-loving people would have a small orgasm and the clueless rest of us would go “hey, it has four wheels!”), and Pat immediately hops in it and drives away. (What’s up with that really ugly garage in an otherwise stellar house?) He maneuvers the hills of San Francisco and heads out into the countryside.

  Where he manages to find the rest of his band performing near a large tree. Cut to what at first glance appears to be a clan of Amish people standing on a rural lane (watch out for those horse-drawn wagons!), but soon turns out to be some type of wine tour, led by a pretty woman wearing interesting boots and a jacket that seems to be missing some of its structure. Cut back to The Singing Tree, where Pat performs an odd dance step while the rest of the band pretends that they don’t have cameras in their faces.

  Checking in on the wine-tour business, we see that everyone has moved inside to a really long table. Folks seem to be quite pleased about life, which probably has something to do with the 412 nearly-empty wineglasses scattered about. Pat catches the eye of Pretty Lady (let’s call her Tanya) and he holds up his current wine glass in a manner that indicates he sure hopes the tour gets a lot more intimate shortly.

  Then we’re back outside, with Pat and Tanya apparently getting to know one another a little bit. (They shake hands, which might be a wine-people symbol for “I really love your peaches want to shake your tree”, not sure.) Two seconds later we see the two of them flying down the road in Pat’s killer car, with Tanya enjoying the breeze, throwing her head back and guffawing, because pretty people can get away with that without looking awkward.

  Whoops, maybe we weren’t supposed to see that getaway business yet, because now we’re back at the vineyard, where they are having one of those three-legged races. (This is clearly a result of the wine.) Pat and Tanya win, naturally, and then immediately proceed to a grape-stomping competition, where, naturally, both of them manage to fall down and get covered in purple juice. (Watch closely for a brief shot of Lucille Ball in the background.)

  Montage of Pat driving down different unnamed streets, with what appears to be other vintage muscle cars driving behind him. This might lead to something later on, might not, there are clearly no rules when it comes to music videos.

  Back to Pat and Tanya, who have managed to find a quiet spot down in the massive wine cellar. They continue to drink, because everyone knows that budding relationships have to be alcohol-based or they don’t really count. Eventually we see them giggling their way into what we’ll assume is Tanya’s abode, where they proceed to laugh and flirt and test her mattress springs to ensure that they are providing full support.

  Next morning, post-bouncing, we see Pat wake first, and he glances at slumbering Tanya in that “whoopsie” way that men have when it comes time to take responsibility for their actions. He, of course, slips away, leaving Tanya to awake later and discover his absence, which makes her a little blue, because she doesn’t let just anybody use her furniture for entertainment purposes.

  Hours or years later, we see Pat driving his hoopty into some parking lot where there are lots of other classic cars scattered about. (It appears that people who own expensive, collectible automobiles like to gather in random spots and admire each others’ hardware.) We have another montage, this one of folks thrilled to be standing next to throbbing engines and spokes-models wearing short-shorts and fondling bottles of car wax.

  This goes on for much longer than dramatically necessary, so I’m glad when we get to the point where we spy Pat sitting in his car and furtively calling Tanya. (Or at least calling someone with a contact photo that looks exactly like her. She might have a twin. Who knows?) Tanya apparently does not care to take his call, which is no surprise, considering how he got him some yum-yum and then ran out the door.

  Pat looks sad for roughly two seconds, then we see him back on the road, because you always feel better when the wind is blowing through your shellacked hair that doesn’t move a millimeter. Oh, look, he’s driving through the gates of the vineyard, followed by dozens of his buddies from the classic-car hoedown in that parking lot. (I guess they ran out of car wax and people got bored.)

  Tanya, apparently conducting another tour and conveniently standing on a large balcony that allows her to see Pat’s parade, gazes in wonder while the setting sun highlights her dewiness. Pat leads his new friends into a large circle drive, where they proceed to roll along at a half a mile an hour so Pat can sing to the lovely lass up yonder.

  This bit also goes on a bit longer than anyone not in the video would deem necessary, but I guess there were contractual expectations that had to be met. (Or maybe the director wandered off to sample more wine and had to be retrieved.) In any case, about a month later, Pat finally parks his car, his friends park theirs, and everybody gets out so they can wait for a reaction from Sheena Easton on the balcony.

  And, of course, she glowingly reacts with utter joy and happiness that Pat has made his way back into her life, despite his penchant for hit-and-run sex and apparent desire to spend most of his quality time at car shows and not her lovely vineyard in the valley, pun firmly intended. We get a final shot of them once again barreling down a country road in Pat’s speed-racer, wind whipping things about.

  I hope the Amish know they’re coming…


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