Friday, March 09, 2007

Let the Party Begin

Yes, I'm feeling giddy, punchy and - can you believe it - happy today. Of course, some of that could be the meds I'm on, but I'll take it.

DH gave me the best present last night - a new car stereo. (Picture Snoopy Happy Dance or Steve Martin's Happy Feet here.) The old one would conk out all the time. Hit a pot hole, no music. Urgent news flash, it would go out. We drove home during a tornado once because the stereo went out and we didn't hear the thing was RIGHT THERE. If it wasn't for the tornado sirens and the bushes rolling down the street, we would have just thought it was another thunder boomer. Fun.

I gotta have my tunes in my car. For the short drive to work, I pretend I can actually carry a tune. Yes, I'm in full American Idol mode. I, too, think I can sing like Aretha, Dusty, and the Righteous Brothers. And hence, my acute embarrassment when I was singing along with the stereo with the windows down last fall, waiting for the light to change, and the stereo went out, leaving me the object of more than a few amused looks.

Of course, right now the clock is off by 7 hours and the demo keeps flashing on the display, but I've got my tunes now. I can read the instruction manual later.

I'm a happy camper.

3 comments:

McB said...

Congrats! I am so with you on this. Not that I have a problem with silence; but I too love to sing along, belting out some of those old tunes (you just can't "belt" the new songs, just not the same). And yeah, I've given Aretha and the gang a run for their money too. They are so quaking in their shoes ... NOT!

Margaret said...

Y'know, in addition to wanting the power of flight (like Superman), and becoming invisible at will, I've always wanted to ability to sing well enough so as not to curdle water.

(sigh)

Better get back to work on that "invisible" idea....

btuda said...

I am definitely with you both on this. My dad was notorious for letting me get all the way to the chorus before turning off the radio and laughing hysterically at the "reality check." Once he even gave me a bucket - to carry the tune in, of course.