While listening to music and doing a super-micro-clean of the kitchen yesterday, I bring you moments that are best left unwitnessed.
- A strange duckwalk across the kitchen, completely lacking in any sort of bluesy-ness, as though undergoing some kind of seizure, in time with “Baby Please Don’t Go”.
- The moment of realization, as your back feels a bit of a twinge, your air guitar playing needs work. Or possibly, a switch to air harmonica.
- The sheer, unbridled joy, and not just a little tunelessness, with which “Born to Run” can be sung while scrubbing the sink. Accompanied, of course, by the periodic shrieking of “OH WOOOOOAAAAH!” along with Bruce, and mad gesticulation along to the lyrics, like some bad karaoke nightmare.
- Telling the cat, without a smidge of sarcasm, that yes, Cinnamon, the Bee Gees DID have way more talent than anyone every gave them credit for. Because you know she can keep your dirty little secret.
- Feeling somehow that “slinky” is not a word that describes you. Even if you’re doing your best Shirley Manson, purring “You can touch me if you want”, while cleaning the stove and cupboard with Lysol.