I like to sing. I sing really loud in the shower, in the car (on my own), even when I am walking around the house and brushing my teeth. The problem is that I am shit at it. I can’t hold a note to save me and dogs wince within a 2 km radius, when I belt out a tune.
I like the power of having a much loved song take a water-slide ride down to the pit of your stomach, tagging your lungs along the way, and rushing out of your mouth like a high pressured hose. You achieve an awesome hearty drum solo epiphany, but with your voice. It leaves me feeling like I’ve had a good yell, and most probably sounds the same.
Singing is something you either have or you don’t. Unfortunately, this renders me a closet singer. I fall into the ‘only singing around people when in a group’ category. Occasionally I will willingly sing around other people if it involves my comedic input, or if I think they might be tone-deaf.
I have a severe amount of envy for those that don’t scare small children away, with their melodic voices. Because if I could actually sing I don’t think I’d ever speak again without putting anything I said into a jingle. I would be the amazing harmonizing woman (and that sentence would be sung too).
I wish there was a shop that I could go to, to trade in my singing voice from ‘scraping gravel on corrugated iron roof’ to ‘hard-out rock chick gritty voice.’ Because sometimes it’s just plain embarrassing to realise that you are in the company of others when you accidently over-power a song on the radio with your wouldn’t-even-get-a-look-in-at-Idol voice.
Sometimes I wonder if the car next to me in the traffic lights can hear my alter-ego go extreme karaokefied. I really hope not, because then I could potentially be labelled as the car you don’t want to end up next to when the lights turn red. I can imagine the bumper sticker I’d be forced to put on my car ‘Caution, this chick sings.’
I live in hope that it becomes fashionable to sing like a cat being castrated, but I don’t see that happening in a hurry. So for now, I will enjoy my guilty pleasure in secret. And for everyone else’s sake, I hope you don’t get stuck next to me in the traffic lights.