I don't walk around with a lyrics sheet. I don't have a teleprompter at my feet too remind me when I miss a word or two.
Nonetheless, I tend to sing along. I am one of those people. This is especially true when I am in the car alone. And, as it happens, when I am in the car with my family.
Oh, how they wish that I was not one of those people.
They don't tend to call me on it very often. I was asked, at a local production of Fiddler on the Roof, by my wife to stop singing along. Which I understand, for the most part. The most being that no one in that amphitheater paid to hear me sing all the parts. The sliver that hurt was the part where I had the joy in my heart and wanted to share it with everyone in full voice.
Not my best choice.
The best place for me to exercise this character trait (I did not refer to it as a defect) is at a Bruce Springsteen concert. Not one of those acoustic deals where I might be heard above the hushed reverence he often requires during such shows, but the great big E Street Band blowouts that seem to engender such behavior. I know all those words, studio and live versions, and I look forward to showing off this knowledge base to those around me. This is, of course, keeping in mind that most everyone else's attention is captured by the trained professionals on the stage whose amplified and rehearsed voices are pouring out over the arena diminishing most any chance for me to be heard.
Except for those closest to me: My wife and son.
They have pretty much surrendered to the idea that part of the ticket price includes dad making a spectacle of himself. And it is precisely at this moment that I should point out that the last time my son and I went to see Green Day, I actually laid out for a song or two, while he proceeded to show me just how familiar he was with the words and music of his favorite band.
But what of my wife? Well, she has her own version of this show. It doesn't tend to show up as often as the rest of ours. She likes to croon along with show tunes and folk rock from her childhood. It's always a welcome surprise when she lets loose.
Because it means I can sing along. s