Sing Sister

Who would have thought, I was thinking, that I could be here doing this? Chances are few that anyone would be likely to walk in and catch me, but that’s the way my mind works. Anyway, I’m bent over, ass out (fully clothed) with my head in the clothes dryer crooning “It had to be you” to no one in particular, and appreciating the acoustics, if not my voice. I used to think I was a good singer. I was still convinced of this until I listened to the playback on my answering machine; not your choice of preference of major recording stars. Whether or not this notion is true is immaterial, and so I sing wherever no one will catch me. I once recommended to a psychiatrist that I sing in the car to get rid of stress. The windows are shut, and although I can be seen, I don’t think I can be heard. Wow, she said, I am going to have to suggest this to my patients.
I have forgotten at least half the lyrics to every song I ever knew, the number of which was considerable and spanned decades before I was born. This is unfortunate as I like to sing a song all the way through without the additions of made up words or scat which I am not suited for.
In the car with Jeff, I often pick up the lyrics I remember to a song written in the 20’s or some obscure folk item that I have stuck in my memory thanks to ex boyfriends with a penchant for country, bluegrass, blues and the ever popular library of congress folkways collection. He looks at me unbelieving almost every time. Sometimes, when I hear a song I know that he has heard before, I say ‘sing it, Jeff!”, but if the arrangement is not familiar, he will not recognize it.
I try not to burden others with this small passion I have and I appreciate it if you keep your singing to yourself if you are tone deaf. Whistling around me is strictly forbidden as it acts like fingernails on blackboards. I had to quit a job because for some reason, all the employees and customers started to whistle. I almost lost my mind.
On the other hand, I have heard people, usually who work with vegetables; I know this is inexplicable, but in Megworld anything is possible, singing out in public and not caring a whit. Generally they see me and stop, but twice I have told them to continue, and congratulated them on their cheeriness.
So go on, sing yourself to bliss or blues, just don’t do it in my presence.