02-21-2013, 06:47 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-21-2013, 06:49 PM by illcommandante. Edited 1 time in total.)
What about you? When do you get your singing in? When my ex was still drinking, I could slip out, and find a congregation, before she woke up. But, that ended fourteen years ago. I'd get out in the yard on warm days, with my Korean dreadnaught. I'd have to compete with Joan Sloan's, blaring Rush Limbaugh. The cows appreciate Oakie Pop. So do the humming birds. The neighbors tolerate Willy. My singing, wasn't much appreciated, in the house. Some new doors were open, and I'd attracted some attention. I think that worried her. But, alone, I wore out the upholstery in the car, with Jimmy Rodgers, and Hank Williams covers. Now, it's an all day thing, again. And, my voice has decayed pretty nicely. I saw myself as the Dean Martin of Country. A suave crooner. Now I have that ancient effect, they try for. Me, I don't go. I'm there. It's a hunch I have, that playing, and singing are one of your best defenses, against decline. Even though, I finally know the sad story of Dean. He was pretty much playing himself. Dean Martin was a human milestone. On live TV, with a drink in his hand, ogling his crew. He changed our world, for the better. So, sing.