Sometimes you get wild turkeys and sometimes you get a silly song.
Yesterday Mary got out of the car singing, which is not unusual. But, the little guys in my brain started perking up because there was familiarity I couldn't put my finger on. One more phrase and I was singing along and I knew all the words. The little guys were simultaneously furiously going through the file cabinets behind my eyebrows looking for the sheet music or something to turn the light on.
And all at once I heard my Dad's voice coming out of that little blond haired girl's mouth.
Barbershop.
Quartet.
Competition.
It was a song from my Dad's barbershop quartet days. Yes, there is a sub-culture of barbershop quartet competitors. And my Dad belonged. And as Dr. Suzuki reminds us--we learn the language we grow up with.
Okay, it was like a DNA thing.
And it was such a damn happy song. . . I had to keep singing along.
Hey Look Me Over
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