“He has Van Gogh’s ear for music.”
All that heat and humidity of the last two days gave way to an amazing thunder and lightning storm last night. It was fantastic. I sat by the window so I wouldn’t miss the lightning. The rain poured for the longest time, and it was still raining when I went to bed. Today is amazing. It’s the sort of day I’d invent if I were Mother Nature. It’s 66° and breezy, but the sun is hot. Tonight is predicted to be in the high 50’s. Now, where did I put that blanket?
When I was young, I used to sing out loud. I didn’t know you were supposed to be on key. After I found out how horribly I sang, I didn’t sing out loud in front of anyone again. I still sing in the car, and I remember the 100 mile trip from Tamale to Bolgatanga on my new motorcycle, a Honda 90, when I sang out loud for almost the whole trip. I even sang Christmas carols as I remember the words to them best of all.
I am a terrible dancer. I have no rhythm. Even when I was young, I was a terrible dancer. It was only in the crush of the crowd on the dance floor that I would dance. It was my way of staying anonymous. But when I was young, I was an extraordinary skipper. I could even skip all the way to school if I wanted. I was also a wonderful hopper on either leg because I had a great sense of balance. We always walked on one railroad track to see who could go the longest without falling off. I usually won.
I could never get the hula hoop to stay on my hips. It would turn once or twice then fall to the floor. My friends could walk while still spinning that hoop. I was always a bit jealous. When I was in Ghana, my mother sent me one of those wooden paddles with the red ball on an elastic. Many nights we went out back and had contests to see how long we could keep the ball going. I may not have had hip coordination, but I could that ball bouncing well into the three hundreds.
I was a good athlete and a darn good softball pitcher. I played basketball as well. That was in the days of half court girls’ games, and I played defense so I could never shoot the ball, and I was stuck in the backcourt. Back then you could only dribble a couple of times before you had to pass. I was the secret weapon strong enough to throw the ball down the whole court. I’d throw it to our lone, undefended offensive player waiting for the ball under the basket. She almost always scored.
I always think it a bit ironic that my blog posts music, but I still sing along quite loudly. It’s for the joy of music.
Explore posts in the same categories: MusingsTags: dancing, lightning, music, rain, skipping, thunder, tin ear
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
July 14, 2011 at 1:16 pm
Look at it this way Kat. Others may of thought you were out of tune,BUT they just weren’t in tune with your enthusiasism 🙂
July 14, 2011 at 10:12 pm
Morpfy,
Thanks-I’ll look at it that way and feel better about my tin ear!
July 14, 2011 at 3:53 pm
I don’t sing because I don’t have a voice that’s keyed at all. I did balance myself with friends on the railroad tracks as every kid would given the chance. And we hid on the hill when it snowed and lambasted the cars as they rolled by with snow balls. No one got hurt, just good practice for baseball season. I wonder what innate feeling a child craves to want to get away with something they know their parents would disapprove of. We got away with all kinds of testing ourselves moments. We even spied on neighbors through their open blinds. Those are hysterical memories. Good post today Kat.
July 14, 2011 at 10:14 pm
Z&Me,
See-we both can say we have wonderful balance! I think throwing snowballs at cars is a boy thing. I don’t ever remember doing that.
We too were always pushing the boundaries. I figure over time we’d tire my parents out.
July 14, 2011 at 5:55 pm
… could be worse …
… could be better …
Cheers
July 14, 2011 at 10:21 pm
Minicapt,
OMG, the hair on my arm stood up, and my computer froze twice. How could they call that The Glory of the Human Voice?
The second one was pure heaven.
July 14, 2011 at 6:52 pm
I am blessed with a terrible singing voice, no rhythm and the only instrument I can play is the iPod. However, I love music and I love to sing in the shower, in the car when driving alone and in the house when everyone else is gone. I think everyone hears their own voice through their own filter in their mind. That filter converts that man’s voice to sound like Frank Sinatra and that woman’s voice to sound like Barbra Streisand.
Unfortunately, it’s harder to fool your eye sight and bad dancing still looks bad in the mirror no matter who is watching.
.
July 14, 2011 at 10:22 pm
Bob,
I could have written your first paragraph. You just described me as well. I think, though, I’d be Bette Midler.
I avoid dancing at all costs.
July 14, 2011 at 11:19 pm
Guys shouldn’t carry mirrors; that’s for girls only.
Cheers
July 14, 2011 at 11:37 pm
Yikes, Minicapt, how will men know they hair is in place?
July 16, 2011 at 2:03 am
@Kat: Well, THIS guy will know his hair is in place cuz his wifey used the buzzing clippers within the month. It is so short that it has no place to fly away to. It is always home and in the right place.
See, there IS a positive side to losing most of your hair.
July 14, 2011 at 8:10 pm
I suppose I can carry a tune if I have someone to follow. I took piano lessons for many years and while I could read music fairly well, I couldn’t keep count with the damn metronome. My sister, practiced dutifully, and did well during her lessons. I still would like to play in instrument, but I doubt I will learn. As for dancing, well, I am too inhibited now to dance, what with my knee and such. My parents sent me to ballet class, very young and I remembered I curtseyed backwards… I alway was a terrible athlete as I have no spacial comprehension. I can swim, though, and that is a great joy.
Waving from under the water and blowing bubbles,
Lori
July 14, 2011 at 10:24 pm
Lori,
Swimming is so beautiful to watch. The arm strokes are even, and it’s a swift movement of the body slicing through the water.
Some of us are just amusing. I guess we’ll have to be happy with that!
July 16, 2011 at 10:22 am
Rick,
The shaved head is now a style. I bet you never thought you’d be trendy!