Hidden Talent

I am an accomplished car singer. That's OK...I'll wait for your applause
to taper off. Now don't think that means I am a talented car singer--it's
something that I do any time I'm driving. My students say, "Hey, Mrs.
Hillbilly Mom, didn't you see me wave at you this morning over by the
middle school?" Well, no, kids. I was in the middle of a concert and
couldn't be distracted. I tell them, "Oh, I don't pay much attention to
who's in the other cars. I sing along with the music sometimes." By the
looks they give each other, I think maybe they have noticed.

I prefer to be alone in my SUV echo chamber. I sound really good
when it's cranked. Most of the time I have to make do with my boys
as passengers. I don't say audience, because one lives in the Pokemon
land called his head, and the other says things like "Can't you turn that
down--I can't even hear my music through these headphones!"

I am really good with Fleetwood Mac. Stevie, Lindsay, and Christine,
I blend really well with y'all. Say You Love Me, guys. I could have
replaced any of you who didn't want to go on tour. OK, so I am not
as freaky as Stevie. And then there's the little matter of not being able
to play keyboards or guitar. But hey, it took two guitarists to replace
Lindsay anyway. I'm So Afraid that secretly you're all hissing "Go
Your Own Way," but really, I Don't Want to Know. Give me a chance
if you reunite. I will even sing your songs from Tusk, the double album
that nobody but me likes. Hey, I have my Dreams.

Oh, I know that I'm not a very good singer anywhere but the car. I
would never sing karaoke, or even sing in the car with real passengers
other than my kids. I don't sing in front of my Hillbilly Husband, either.
Sometimes even my car serenades leave something to be desired.

No matter how hard I try, I can not blend with you, Shery Crow. I
don't care how many times you tell me "C'mon, C'mon--It's So Easy,"
I just can't walk that Diamond Road with you. It's a shame, too, you
being a good ol' southern Missouri gal and all. Picture this: I actually
blend better with Kid Rock than with you. Glad you did that song
with him.

And Liz Phair, don't think your music is safe from my mealy-mouthed
mutilation. The blend is great, but I've got to get the hang of that odd
phrasing you use, cause sometimes I have to take a breath.

Now that you are sufficiently tranquilized from my boring story today,
mosey on over to Misha's. Seems that work dealt her a road trip, and
she's looking for ONE (I repeat ONE) song from everybody to put
on CD for the trip. That means ONE, people. Don't make me come
over there! And maybe, just maybe, that's where I got the idea for
this car music post.