Singing Along, Dangerously

The other morning, my favorite song came on the radio as I commuted to work on busy Interstate 89 between St. Albans and Burlington, Vermont.

The only time I can sing without people running away in terror at my caterwalling voice is when I’m alone in the truck. So I opened right up.

“Tramps like us, Baby we were BORN TO RUUUNNN!!!!!!!!!!!”

I’m sure the people in cars passing me did not mistake me for Springsteen. I mental patient yes, but not Springsteen. Screw ’em. OK,

The real trouble starts when I forget myself and hum a few bars when there are people around. Usually, I’m caught doing a totally inappropriate song, too.

There’s the routine moments, when I channel Lady Gaga: “I want your loving/And I want your revenge, You and me could write a bad romance!”

Of course, I just happen to be singing that little ditty as some linebacker type guy walks by. No, not you, bud,  We’re not having any kind of romance, believe me.

At least I wasn’t singing another Gaga lyric as I wander downtown Burlington: “This beat is sick, I want to take a ride on your disco stick.”

Sorry, when I’m on Burlington’s Church Street I have no interest in anybody’s disco stick, believe me.

At least I wasn’t singing that old early 1990s’s chestnut “I Touch Myself.”

Once I was just rolling up to the customs station at the Canadian border when the song on the CD I was playing blurted out, “Methamphetamines!”

Uh, no officer, I’m not transporting meth across the border. Really.

Yeah, yeah, tell that to Homeland Security.

Once, while I was vacationing in ultra conservative South Carolina, I drove by a church on a Sunday morning with my windows open and the CD playing. I’m sure the church-goers were impressed by the Concrete Blonde song I was playing.

Sample lyric: “I told the priest, don’t count on any second coming. God got his ass kicked the last time he came down here slumming. He had the gall to die and then forgive us. No, I don’t wonder why, I wonder what he thought it would get us.”

Amazingly, lightning did not strike.

So anyway, if you catch me breaking out in song, do me a favor and wrap some duct tape around my mouth. The world will thank you.

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One Response to “Singing Along, Dangerously”

  1. denis Says:

    i’d much rather hear you sing than duct tape your mouth and have you silent.

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