Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Sing along with Nic

When I was a kid, it was mortifying to go out in public with my parents. Among their transgressions: they sang. In public. We'd be in line at the bank and they'd sing along with the Muzak. We'd hiss "Dad! Stop it! People can hear you!" and he'd play dumb: "What? Was I singing?"

The horror. The humiliation. Ok, ok, it wasn't like they were belting out tunes like they were on a Broadway stage, but still...you don't sing in public.

One night I was running errands, going from the grocery store to the pet store, and I realized mid-step that I'm hearing My Sweet Lord, but it's not coming from the loudspeakers. It's coming from...oh my sweet Lord indeed, it's coming from me.

I really wanna see you
I really wanna see you, lord
But it takes so long, my lord...

I was even singing the hallelujah part.

I called my sister and started to explain. "I was at the store, and My Sweet Lord was on the piped-in music, and, well..."

"You were singing along," she said.

"Uh, yeah."

"Just like mom and dad did, and we hated it."

"Yeah."

"I do it, too."

This afternoon I caught myself coming out of the gym:

Oh Mickey
What a pity
You don't understand...

Crap. I hope nobody heard that.

The next step in becoming my parents (well, except for the having kids part, and I'm not going there) is to hit a point where I don't care that I was singing in public.

Posted by Nic at September 14, 2004 05:20 PM