Sure. I sing. Just not in public. Except when I have had too much to drink, then I imagine that I can sing. And my husband reminds me the morning after that it was just my imagination. I’d hang my head and feel sorry for a moment that I never did quite make it as a rockstar. (It was my dream as a first-grader; to become a rockstar like Mango Groove and drive a Lamborgini Countash… a red one.) Again, I hang my head but this time in a little bit of shame. Thankfully we change, right?

I do sing to my child and hope that one day he will stick up for me too like I did for my dearest granny’s voice. My go-to songs for bedtime are Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver and Hard Candy by the Counting Crows.

Apart from overindulgence and bedtime hymns, I only do solitude solo-pieces. Now is your chance to thank me for that, and to remember not to request an encore.

So what is the point? Firstly, I am analysing The Sunscreen Song – Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)  – and secondly, well, there is no secondly. Singing just makes me feel better. Screaming also helps, that’s why my playlist normally includes an ACDC hit, along with a bit of System of the Down and Prodigy. But serious now, singing is really an emotional outlet that just makes you feel better. For the next week or so I will test this theory again. I will let you know if my opinion about this changes.

Yours in humming,

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