So I play guitar very badly. I also sing a few of the oldies I grew up listening to as a kid. This is when everybody always leaves the room. I don't quite sing as well as I play, and did I mention I play badly? So, if there was ever any delusions of musical ability, my family and friends, dogs, pets and even neighbors enjoying the out of doors, all let me know, fairly quickly, that I am not gifted.
But, in spite of all of that, from time to time I will hit upon a tune, usually during a rare phase of the moon where the sinus cavities and phlegm level all coincide to allow a fairly descent, almost on-tune rendition of a song or two. Not often, so it seems to require the notice of my wife who will let me know it sounded "nice."
Now this is a seasonal thing. See, usually, I grow a bit mental in the Oklahoma heat and try to speed up fall by setting out decorations. I mean it dude! I have fall pictures on my computers, and I set up screen savers and put out fall leaf garland and try to create a fall like aura as air conditioners are running full tilt after 80-90 days of 100+ degree heat. And the hotter it gets, the Scotsman in me sees the Electric meter spinning every time the air conditioner kicks on, and sometimes it never seems to stop. I mean it man, out here it gets so hot in the summer, you walk out of a building and just get pissed off because heat is not supposed to be this freakin hot. The day might start off at 85 degrees and be 98 by 10:00 a.m. So now I hot, miserable and sinking into deep depression as I can't stop visualizing the electric meter spinning into the hundreds and hundreds of dollars. Seasonal Affect Disorder usually happens when the days grow shorter and active lifestyle people can't be outside enjoying nature. In my house, it's when the days grow too hot and you can't go outside.
So each day the radiant heat builds and it grows hotter. And each day I grow a little more pissed off. Each day I go a little more crazy until the calendar turns. Pre-Season football starts in August. Football is a fall/winter sport, right? That means there's hope, right? Then School starts, and school always starts in the fall, right? Only it's probably over 100 degrees the first six weeks of school in this state. But still, school always means fall and cooler temperatures, right?
So I put out fall looking decorations and don't burn candles because, what? Are you fucking stupid? It's hot enough to boil water outside and you want to add to the heat with an open flame? Dumbass. So I sit in the house that wont cool down because after a few days of over 100 degree heat, the house can't really get cold enough to feel comfortable. SO now I am a fat, old man sitting in the house wearing shorts and an open shirt, sweating under two fans and thinking only one thought... WHEN THE HELL WILL IT COOL OFF?!!!
Without much else to do at this time of year, I always start playing the guitar again. I play the oldies, then in desperation I look for Christmas songs and believe me there will be some "Let it Snow" chanting going on around the Dog Days of August and into September. And I wont be the only one singing. Sure we all say it is to practice for the upcoming holidays, but we all know, it is a wish, a plea... turn off the damn heat!!!
It jumped up into the 100s this week. Without even thinking about it, I found myself sitting at the Piano with my guitar, leafing through a few of my old song books. Within a few minutes all the family and the cat ran out of the room, saying they had things they needed to work on in other parts of the house. SO I do a song from Poco, and one by Stephen Bishop. I butcher a couple by the Beatles and one by David Gates. I embarrass myself with some James Taylor and then I move to the super sonic tones of John Denver.
SO there I am in the other room, going at it with "Annie's Song" when Mrs. Y2K comes in the room and offers her gentle encouragement as she hugs me. She says that song sounds "real nice." She squeezes me tighter. She did this the day before on this very song. Only she "Hugged" me by wrapping her arm around my neck, BOTH TIMES! And when she squeezed, in the middle of my attempt to hit the highest of John Denver notes, which cuts off all the air in my throat and I gag. BOTH DAYS!! And she maintains her "HUG" while whispering "how nice it sounds" until all singing has been throttled quiet. Then she kisses the top of my bald head and goes back in the other room, saying absently, "That sounded really nice."
OK, so there are days when she just scares the hell out of me!