I'm a music nerd.
No, not a musician. Although, some would argue that I am.
I am a music nerd.
I was the kid that made first chair in band ... every single time. I went to bed early in preparation for chair tests ... ya' know, while my friends were hanging out at the Sonic.
I was the kid whose mother sang harmony with every 80's song on the radio, and thus I did the same. FYI: Bon Jovi had some rockin' alto lines.
Nerd from the loins of the nerd.
My parents sang and played instruments. The kids sang and played instruments.
I taught myself to play guitar a few years ago. I love it. I'm pretty sure I suck, because ... well, I'm guessing my "form" or something is really jacked up, seeing how everything I know I learned on YouTube. But I love it, none the less.
Except for one thing. That friggin' harmony. There is nothing, nothing, nothing in the world like having someone beside you singing a little harmony. If they are singing it along to some old, totally cheese ball song - even better.
So, despite my husband's love for music, he would much rather watch the Vikings or Baylor get their patooties kicked in football, than come in and sing along with me while I pluck out "More Than Words," "Killing Me Softly," or anything by the Beatles. Yeah. What's his deal?
My friend, R, comes over and we sew. Sometimes. We make stuff. Sometimes. We talk and drink coffee. Sometimes. But we always do something, and whatever it is - it's more fun doing it with someone else.
There's nothing like those harmonies in life, but dang do I love the good old fashioned singin' kind.
So, if any of you ever want to come crawl into bed with me and sing along one night, please do. I'm currently craving a first and second soprano who are up for some really tight three-part harmony on "Shaboom, Shaboom."
*side note: you must be able to pop your mouth at the end - otherwise ... what's the point?*
(photo by alfonso diaz, used with permission)