Cats and Caterwauling

There was a stray cat in our neighborhood last spring.  She took a liking to Hubby, rather excessively pursuing him.  Her plaintive yowling would start as soon as she spotted him leaving for work and continued to the wee hours. Our mutt didn't like it one bit.  When the crush finally ran its course, I was more than a little relieved.  The singing had stopped at last.

It has been pointed out to me, none to sweetly, that I, like that cat, should learn to sing solo...make that SO LOW, so low that I can't be heard.  It is usually followed by, "but you know I love you, Ma."

Ok, so I can't carry a tune.  At church I lip-synch mostly.  I don't offer to sing a remnant of a sixties' song because it would help no one remember the tune.  If I am alone, I crank up the radio and belt out Aretha or Fogerty or the Boss.  Otherwise, no amount of gin will flex my vocal chords.  Karaoke?  I don't think so.  You know that sound when you step on a cat's tail?  It's melodic compared to me.

Driving as much as I do I have learned to entertain myself to stay awake. Pop in a CD and get motivated by Clapton.  It's no wonder I only rarely see deer or other critters.  They are running for their lives from the sound of my screeching.

Is my speaking voice so totally devoid of pitch?  Is my cadence cock-eyed (geez, I love alliteration).  If so, I apologize to the masses.

I was asked at church if I was musical, obviously from someone who sits several pews away.  Hubby, bless his heart, turned away as though not hearing the question--no need to lie or snicker.

Even long-time friends haven't heard my voice. One says "it can't be that bad."  Maybe someday after a fifth of gin, and when I feel like torturing someone, she will find out.

I took public speaking class because I was nervous when talking  in front of people.  They worked, and I have no fear of crowds.  I can't afford the combat premium I would have to pay to anyone who thought she could teach me to sing.  She would have more luck teaching the cat in heat to be tuneful.

I will continue to whisper as I sing praise. I will mouth the National Anthem as I hold my hand to my heart in pride of my country.  I will screech as I speed down highway 79.

That off kilter voice you hear?  Must be that stray cat in heat yet again.