As every Boomer knows,
as we grow older we face an ever increasing array of Cut-offs.
That is, we reach ages at which it no longer seems
appropriate to talk, act, or dress in ways we once found natural when the world
was young and we were younger.
Though cut-offs abound --- from
the cut-off for wearing a baseball cap backwards (31) to the cut-off for
growing hair completely covering your ears (43) --- one important cut-off seems never to
have been established:
It’s true.
Walking across the quad at age 22 singing “Southern Man”
with your best Neil Young may have once made you seem cool; walking across the
parking lot at Target doing the same at age 62 makes you a tool.
It's even worse for me.
My singing voice has a vocal quality similar to
that of comedian Gilbert Gottfried were Mr. Gottfried practicing the art of hog
calling while cutting loose on the tender ballad "Feelings."
Carry a tune? I’d need to call movers.
Perfect pitch? That’s something I always seemed to
attract whenever I was batting at softball.
And yet still I sing. Often in public.
You’d think this singing fool were a happy-go-lucky
guy, but if you’ve read much of this blog you know better. I’m the “Poster Boy for Aging Angst!”
Yet still I sing. Often in public.
And when I do, the
world often does seem a little bit brighter.
Today I walked into my
local convenience store vocalizing Van Morrison perhaps too loudly. People looked at me as if they were
terrified I’d leap on the deli counter and begin
belting out:
Ding a ling a ling
Ding a ling a ling ding
Ding a ling a ling
Ding a ling a ling ding
Do Da Do Da Do!
Ding a ling a ling ding
Ding a ling a ling
Ding a ling a ling ding
Do Da Do Da Do!
Embarrassed, I toned Van Morrison down to a
decibel level which would register more readily with store patrons with four rather
than two legs.
Some folks yet regarded me in a less than loving
manner.
But I continued to
sing.
As I walked out of the
store, I found myself breaking into “Awaiting on You All” by nobody less than George
Harrison.
"You don‘t need
no passport, and you don’t need no visas …”
As I rounded a corner I came face to face with
a woman about my age.
She smiled.
“Just keep on
singin’!”
she said.
So what is the cut-off
for singing in public?
I’m going with none.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~