Ah the many ways a mother can embarrass a child..even adult children! Today at lunch Josh grilled me concerning my conversation with his friends yesterday. What exactly did I say anyway? He wanted every word repeated. He was so sure that I would have said something inappropriate because I can't be trusted.
I talk too much and apparently I smile too much for no reason. Recently in my travel magazine, etiquette aboard the Trans Siberian Express was discussed. Aside from never turning down proffered vodka, one is to keep smiling to a minimum as it is 1)a sign of insincerity 2)a sign of feeble mindedness. Josh thinks similarly. Also I speak too loudly.
Oh but I have other embarrassing tricks up my sleeve. Yesterday in the WSJ, they discussed amusia which they defined (wrongly as it turned out) as the inability to dance in sync to music resulting in random flailing. They illustrated the article without any explanation with a picture of Elaine Benes attempting to dance. Shanna had compared me to Elaine Benes in the past (So you think you can dance?). The word(s) that the WSJ should have used was beat deafness. Apparently one could be otherwise co-ordinated (I was the champion of the company B raquetball league and used to be fairly unbeatable in ping pong so I did have some skills somewhere) and still make a fool of oneself. Naomi asked me specifically to please not dance at a wedding that Don'tae attended. I am sure she we will request that I abstain at her wedding.
So what is amusia if it is not beat deafness. It is the inability to recognize music from random sounds. Tunes can not be recognized or reproduced. I used to have a nice voice. Now it is true I had difficulty singing harmony because I kept slipping back to the melody but I did sing in a church choir and was asked to solo in an elementary school choir so I couldn't have been that terrible. Plus I could play in a band. Where's this wonderful voice of mine? Diminished to a range of 4 notes or so by puberty.
Hate this spring forward business even though as an alleged woman of leisure, it should not affect me.
I talk too much and apparently I smile too much for no reason. Recently in my travel magazine, etiquette aboard the Trans Siberian Express was discussed. Aside from never turning down proffered vodka, one is to keep smiling to a minimum as it is 1)a sign of insincerity 2)a sign of feeble mindedness. Josh thinks similarly. Also I speak too loudly.
Oh but I have other embarrassing tricks up my sleeve. Yesterday in the WSJ, they discussed amusia which they defined (wrongly as it turned out) as the inability to dance in sync to music resulting in random flailing. They illustrated the article without any explanation with a picture of Elaine Benes attempting to dance. Shanna had compared me to Elaine Benes in the past (So you think you can dance?). The word(s) that the WSJ should have used was beat deafness. Apparently one could be otherwise co-ordinated (I was the champion of the company B raquetball league and used to be fairly unbeatable in ping pong so I did have some skills somewhere) and still make a fool of oneself. Naomi asked me specifically to please not dance at a wedding that Don'tae attended. I am sure she we will request that I abstain at her wedding.
So what is amusia if it is not beat deafness. It is the inability to recognize music from random sounds. Tunes can not be recognized or reproduced. I used to have a nice voice. Now it is true I had difficulty singing harmony because I kept slipping back to the melody but I did sing in a church choir and was asked to solo in an elementary school choir so I couldn't have been that terrible. Plus I could play in a band. Where's this wonderful voice of mine? Diminished to a range of 4 notes or so by puberty.
Hate this spring forward business even though as an alleged woman of leisure, it should not affect me.
1 comment:
I always figured that after giving birth...my next most important job was to figure out ways to embarras my children. I am happy to saynthat I have succeeded over the years in perfecting my technique...
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