Singing in Silence

Lately I have been driving in silence. I really like it. I’ve always liked the quiet – you know, it’s hard to get away from the ruckus when you have super hero ears. The thirty or so minutes it takes me to drive to and from school is usually spent catching up with friends or family, but occasionally I just sit. I’d say I think, but I don’t think I do. These days, I don’t feel like there is much to think about. Things just seem to be happening happily, and despite a near mental breakdown over driving to Virginia a few weeks ago, my head has been pretty clear. So, as I’m driving in silence, occasionally a line of a song falls out of my mouth. Really, it just falls out. I don’t know where it comes from, but it comes out really loud and kind of terrible sounding because, well, I can’t sing. And then it’s over. One line. That’s all I’ve got.

And then there’s another something that I sing. It’s called road rage. I have a minor case of it. And ever since I’ve been driving in silence, my road rage comes out as a song. For example, last night I was exiting the highway and the car in front of me had his left turn signal on but was driving on the far right of the road. I knew he was going to get off the exit and turn left because that’s what 87% of the people do on this particular exit. But it was taking this car a really long time to make a move … and it irritated me. Mainly because I was about to wet my britches (typical), but the dilly-dallying just seemed excessive under any circumstance. So, instead of using my mean voice and not nice words, I sang – in a man’s opera voice – “Why don’t you get over, you munchkin licker.” This way, in case the driver were to see me call him a munchkin licker, he would have just thought I was singing along to a song, and no birds would have been flipped in my direction. Try it. It’ll maybe make you giggle, too.