Karaoke Therapy

Lately I’ve been self medicating with Karaoke Therapy.  This consists of me singing at the top of my lungs in my car during any period of driving.

There are a couple of rules that I made up for some reason:
Windows need to be rolled up entirely, because heaven forbid any strangers hear me belting out whatever song I’m mangling at the moment.
There is a direct correlation between the volume and ferocity of my singing, and the speed of the vehicle.  So at a stop sign I’m singing mezzo-piano (semi-soft for you non music-types not in the know) but on the freeway I am belting and wailing at the top of my lungs.  Somehow driving has become an aerobic activity.

And a couple of things I’ve noticed:
A passionately singing driver, i.e. fist pumping, steering-wheel-drumming, mouth agape spitting out words in rapid succession… looks almost identical to an angry road-raging driver.  So while I’m piping out my off-key rendition of “My Heart Will Go On” somebody is looking in their rear view mirror thinking “wow look at this angry asshole”

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