I love music. I listen to the radio every day, the iPod every day, the CD’s almost every day (really no point when it’s all on my iPod anyway) and I listen to it everywhere. In my car, at my desk, while I’m typing, while I’m cooking, while I’m cleaning, and yes while I’m showering. I am that annoying sing-a-long singer in the bathroom.
And my bathroom has 10 foot ceilings. AMAZING ACCOUSTICS. Not so amazing performances. The cats always walk out half way through. Stinkers.
Still, in all of this I have a little secret. A small, dream if you will. A fantasy that I dance and bounce around too and imagine away in my pretty little head.
When I’m singing, or listening, to a song that I really get. I connect to. I FEEL. I imagine I’m the singer starring in a music video.
I hear those guffaws. And giggles. And those not-quite-so-silent heaves of laughter. I’ll give you a minute to catch your breath.
Alex, of course, finds the entire situation hilarious. But I’d like to point out one thing – he sings with me. And if I’m really lucky, he’ll sing TO me. And since the man sounds like Josh Turner, I am one lucky woman.
But back to the video star concept, it’s not so much that I pretend I’m in it right at that moment as that I can picture a video in my head. For example, for Josh Turner’s song “Firecracker I see me and my hubby riding in his jeep with the top down in one scene, another scene is us “play-fighting” with water balloons, etc, and then in a final scene is us dancing underneath a darkened sky where Firecrackers are going off in the background. Cheesy I know. But that’s how I roll.
Of course there are also those moments when I do pretend I’m actually in the video where I walk and sing through my house, trailing my hands over our couch and more like during Norah Jones’ song “Don’t Miss You At All.”
Mind you I restrict this insanity to when I am alone only. I wouldn’t want Alex to feel obligated to drag me off to the nuthouse.
So that is my dirty little secret, when you see me walking in the mall alone or cleaning my house and the music is on, well there is a high chance that I’m whisking myself away to the land of my imagination where I live in a Broadway musical. Or an episode of Glee.
Beggars can’t be choosers after all.
Oh and if anyone wants to start a Flash Mob right next to me, well please just send me the song list in advance. I’ll be joining in!