Thursday, September 09, 2004

Full of pluck

As the days go by and I start to become older, I've begun to find out a few things about myself and marriage that people hadn't made me aware of.

For example, I noticed my first ear hairs the other day. Ear hairs, I tell you. Never once in my entire life did I think I would ever have to worry about things such as that. I'm not an exceptionally hairy man. In fact, if you could see my constantly-accelerating-backward hairline, you would think that hair GAIN could not possibly be an issue for me, but I digress.

Add this to the rapidly increasing amount of back hairs that seem to keep popping up in places that could not possibly be more absurd, as they are absolutely impossible to reach, and I believe that I'm starting to become some sort of twisted visage of Sy Sperlings hair growth fantasies.

Back to the ear hair. (There's a sentence that I thought I would never write.) So, Sarah points out the fact that I have a few hairs sprouting out from the inside of my ear. I nearly wept. So, she starts looking around my bathroom (in our temporary apartment, I have my own) for a pair of tweezers, so she may rid me of this new and bothersome folicle infection. When she can't find the pair of tweezers that I had for occasions such as this one, she went into her bathroom and found another set that I could use. I, quite painfully, removed said hairs and then motioned to give back the hair-pullers back to her.

"Oh, no. I don't want those back now." she exclaimed.

This coming from a woman that deals with the blood and feces with her nursing patients all day long. Tweezers that did not come into contact with anything that I would determine to be particularly disgusting in any way, are now so totally repulsive that she cannot possibly think of using them again.

"Why?" I so cleverly quipped back to her.

There wasn't an actual audible response to that question, just a look that made me sheepishly take the tweezers and put them into one of my drawers.

So, the question becomes this. What do women do with tweezers that they can't use them after they've touched their husbands ear hair? I'll leave it up to you to try and come up with an answer to that question that makes sense.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Petrified

You should all be afraid. Be very afraid. I've made my first excursion into Karaoke.

Not that my wife ever lets anyone hear it, but I believe that she has a wonderful singing voice. I've only gotten a chance to hear her use it on probably 5 occasions throughout all of the time that I've known her (Outside of hearing her sing the national anthem or "Varsity" at a Badger game.) So, I became convinced that I should try to find a way for her to be able to sing with no one else around.

Recently Sony has made available a game called Karaoke Revolution for the Playstation 2. I thought that this could be one of the best ways for her to be able to sing without anyone else being around to bother her and she would be able to relax and just enjoy it. Of course, when I got the software I had to test things out to "make sure they were working." Thus began my illustrious singing career.

I should let you know that I've never been someone who could sing. The only song that I can ever pull off with any sort of regularity is "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground. That's not a song that most people would claim to be able to sing, but I NAIL it every time. I've got Humpty down cold. It's a blessing (for me) and a curse (for everyone else).

Anywho, I tried to do some singing when I was in school, but I started to pick up on the fact that I wasn't going to be a good at it when I found myself being pushed further and further back in the choir room, so that the instructor would find it harder and harder to hear me. I'm pretty sure that it has something to do with the fact that I'm mono-tonotic (Aren't made up words fun?)

I believe that most people actually think that they can carry a tune though. Which is kind of sad. We all sit in the car and sing along to our favorite new tune and through the magic of volume and the talents of the actual artists, we are able to mask the fact that we sound incredibly bad when we try and belt out a tune.

One thing I found when I tried to sing is that every song that I attempted was a caricature of someone else doing that song. When Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On" was playing, I found myself pretending to be Jack Black singing his version from the film High Fidelity. When Sinatra's "Under My Skin" was selected, I found myself doing a poor man's impression of Joe Piscapo doing Frank Sinatra.

Sadly, I've found that I have no voice of my own.

I guess this is no surprise to me, as the only other song that I can sing is that of my impression of Kirk Van Houten singing "Can I Borrow a Feeling."

So, if you ever see a Digital Underground cover band, give me a wave and try not to ask me to sing "Free Bird." Let me stick with what I do best, or well, or not very well, or... well you get the point.