The art of being Californian, it seems, is to cultivate a loose-limbed insouciance while secretly working away like a frantic ant.

--Richard Fortey The Earth: An Intimate History

Monday, June 1, 2009

sing your heart out

So, those of you who know me know that I have a tendency to spontaneously burst into song at random times. It's as if the volume of the constant music stream that plays in my head gets too loud and I have to release some of it out into the wider airstream.

Most of the time when this release occurs, I am safe within my circle of friends or the privacy of my own home. However, there are moments when I break into song in public settings like walking down the hall in my lab's building or while in line at the grocery store.

Today, it happened not once but two times.

1. While running, I hit a particularly inspirational moment in Regina Spektor's "On the Radio" and just had to belt the line out. Much to the surprise and amusment of the woman getting in her car not more than two feet on my right.

I didn't need to wonder what it would be like to slip into her skin. Her laughter followed me down the block.

2. I called my friend to discuss a mutual attendance of an upcoming music venue. I got her voicemail. Somehow between her recorded message and the tone that signals my cue to record my message, I forgot that I was on the phone.

I know. I know. How does that happen? Do I just forget that the small black thing I'm holding to my ear is an actual working phone? Is my arm so used to being in that 90 degree bend that holding it like that just feels natural? Is my attention span really that short?

Possibly. Possibly. Definitely yes.

Anyway, at some point shortly after the tone, I started to sing, unaware that my friend's voicemail was recording my dulcet tones for posterity. After a few bars, I suddenly realized that I was leaving a musical message and transitioned to a flustered spoken statement. I didn't know what else to do. She would know it was me who had called and sung to her. I figured that acknowledging the act and leaving my initial intentions on her voicemail was as better than hanging up.

Later, my roommate informed me that all I had to do was push the pound key, and I could have erased my tune.

But did I really want to do that?

1 comment:

  1. ha! That is just perfect! I love that about you. I love that you always have a (Song) in your heart. You can sing to me anytime. Oh crum! Are you even talking about me? Anyway, love you...your friend on the other line who likes folk music.