Monday, May 2, 2011

I'm a great singer. In my mind.

Some days, I am 98.7% sure I could be the next American Idol.  Those are the days that I am sitting in the garage with the car running - not because I'm through with this life and want to die a Carbon Monoxide-ish death, but because I am finishing up belting out an awesome tune along with the real singer.  Those days when, if I close my eyes, I can pretend the real singer and I are singing a duet in perfect harmony and looking at each other like, yeah, we got this.


But then I think to myself, Self?  You are probably just as bad a singer as those really bad singers who think they can sing great.  They come in, do their Cod-awful rendition of Total Eclipse of the heart, then look utterly shocked and dismayed when the judges mock throw up and/or blink a lot and act like they want to snap their fingers in a z formation.


The question is, do they really really think they are good?  Those horrible screechy singers.  Really?  And really, is there no one in their lives that will help a brother out and just say, Dude, you suck?  Before the poor jackass gets up on national television and embarrasses himself?

I realize I that just outed myself as a closet Idol fan.  Go Scotty! 

4 comments:

  1. Mom. Why don't you ever sing like that in front of ME? You always whisper/sing and laugh a lot when you try to sing with me..I wanna hear the real deal, mother! hmph.

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  2. I think they are delusional, mostly.

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  3. Not telling someone their singing could use a little training can be just as bad as telling them they are terrible at singing and should never sing again.

    There has to be a middle way.

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