Last night to break the boredom of driving two-plus hours in the dark I sang in harmony with the Doobie Brothers, Eagles and the Beatles, thanks to Sirius Radio. The flow was going nicely until the Stones came on with Angie—Jagger sounds like he got his foot caught in a bear trap. I pushed the screen for a rescue but got more bad tunes. Suddenly, I needed to rinse my mouth out—bad rock, bad taste, can’t sing. The seconds became minutes. My speed decreased. I groped for a CD. Eureka! Bobby Fuller’s Buddy Holly-like voice to the rescue with “I Fought the Law”—my kind of harmony. 82 mph. Whoah! Tempus fugit! I eased back in the saddle, slowed to almost legal speeds, and finished off with Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs and The Seeds. Voice was a little hoarse when I got home, but I got home.
There are two kinds of people in this world. I choose to be among those who sing in the car, not in the shower.
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