We all have a guilty pleasure song, or ten, right? I hope I am not the only one who at least once a day is signing at the top of our lungs or air drumming along to a song that makes us feel like a rock star, a princess or makes us feel better. Music does that. Music makes us feel better. I most definetly have songs that are guilty pleasures because they make me think I can actually sing.
If I’m not writing or crafting I’m often singing and dancing to music in the kitchen while I cook. My kitchen is for dancing. I definitely have my karaoke chorin’ days bouncing around while I distractedly clean, well I try to clean. I can’t listen to music with words when I write because my Monkey will truly get the best of me. I’ll be whisked away into another thought as every song lyric generally reminds me of something else, someone else, that one time or that one place. I try to write to music with no words. Sometimes I just listen to the music of the squirrels on the roof and the pigeons I can hear cooing through the chimney to the library and welcoming me to the flock. But even with music that has no words I will find myself sitting at my window conducting Mozart or flashing back to when I saw Philip Glass in a small bar in Buffalo. I may get distracted, but at least I don’t sing and end up typing the occasional lyric into a piece not meant for that. Usually.
But I truly still love to sing. Especially after a few beers.
On a day not too long ago in a place not far away we went to our favorite little spot after work for a beer. Because we could. With only one car, that day I had done the drop off and had gone to pick up hubs. That day I was in a mood to sing. I was reminding myself to also be silly, forcing a better mood upon my face with music.
On the way home, we stop, we have a couple beers. Being in a bar without really any people was a bit of a bummer and having the opposite we were hoping for. It was time to head home. I really hate this pandemic. Still feeling the need to sing and now feeling the need to be quite silly thanks to my Monkey, I connected my phone to the stereo in the jeep as we headed home. The windows were down the wind in my face reminding me that I needed to be on my Moto more often.
The stereo in the jeep is…LOUD. Yes, I am that person with the stereo loud enough to hear coming down the street. I like it that way. I like to feel the bass move me, literally. It makes me feel better. It also happens that while I am driving, if the weather is good enough even if I need the heater on the windows will be down and I will be singing. Tonight was no different.
We’ve done countless road trips with each other, cross country more than once in various vehicles of two or four wheels, for conventions or just because. At some point, even through our helmets, we just sing. Tonight was no different. We, ok at least me this time, were going to saaaang our hearts out. One little catch. My guilty pleasure music when I am feeling silly or know that I should be, is Disney. Yep that’s me, the grown ass woman with grown ass kids rolling down the highway blasting “children’s” music.
Almost home, we pull up to the stoplight and I am so enthralled with myself and my glorious singing thinking at any moment my talking animal companion would arrive, that I didn’t notice that we had pulled up to a car that had their windows down.
I‘ve got gadgets and gizmos a plenty, whosits and whatsits galore…..I WANT MOOOOOORE
I then turn my head to the right in the most dramatic attempt at a Disney Princess hair toss to see the man in the car next to me laughing, out loud. I feel my face flush but keep singing, besides the next part of the song isn’t exactly belting it out. The light turns green and as we pull away he actually said…
That made my day.
I smiled bigger, and kept singing. It was just the reminder that doing out loud that which makes you happy, is more than likely going to put a smile on someone else face too. Yes, I’ll be dancing and singing in the grocery store, I’ll be conducting Mozart on my walks. If you’re out and about driving don’t be surprised to hear a pink haired lady singing at the top of her lungs with the windows down. If you do, join me. I promise it will make us both smile and that’s a good thing. Smiles are contagious.