November 2008 Archives

(Or, If Singing Were Hazardous to Your Health)

What if a team of scientists somewhere in the world discovered that singing was as bad for one's health as smoking¹? That question tickled my brain this morning while I was making coffee (and singing²). What would the world do? And what might the world look like if it began treating singing and smoking the same way? Here are just a few of the answers I came up with...

• There would be "No Singing" signs posted in very public places. Imagine a microphone and music notes inside a red circle with a slash through it.
• On hospital and college campuses, there'd be signs that said, "No singing within thirty feet of this (or any) entrance."
• "Have you sung within the last six months?" and "How many songs do you sing a day?" would become relevant health questions.
• Independent studies would find that humming was healthier than singing.
• Presidential candidates would have to explain their participation in high school musicals.
• Speaking of which, churches across the country would protest and boycott the High School Musical trilogy. (Is it a coincidence that there's "sin" in "singing"? I think not.)
• The bleachers would become a popular spot for the musical theater kids.
• Christmas carols, "Happy Birthday", and the national anthem would be recited instead of sung.
• Lullabies would be considered child endangerment.
• The issue of secondhand singing would rear its head with the high profile case of a mother who sang in her car with the windows rolled up while her toddler was in the backseat.
• Towns like Seattle and Nashville would become singing havens. Advocates would argue that singing has the power to heal and would push for the legalization of medicinal musicals.
• The minimum legal age to buy music would be 18. CDs would be sold behind the counter at gas stations and liquor stores. Packaging would have to show lyric content and singability levels.
• The government would heavily tax MP3s sold on iTunes. Instead of 99 cents, songs would cost $4.99 each.
• Public service announcements on television would show the adverse effects of singing. At least one would feature a singer who had undergone a tracheotomy. (Ugh!)
• With live performances of musicals marginalized, symphonies and ballet companies would see a (slight) resurgence in popularity.
  
• In order to preserve their livelihoods, music artists would market their concerts as poetry readings. Songs would be euphemistically referred to as poems with background music. Rap would become the most socially acceptable form of pop music.
• Record labels would promote instrumental and spoken word albums as healthy alternatives to albums with vocals.
• Shows like American Idol and America's Got Talent would be banned or relegated to pay-per-view channels like MTV and VH1.
• Shows like Sesame Street and the Backyardigans would be yanked from television for targeting children and attempting to create a new generation of singers.
• Movie actors and actresses would be criticized for glamorizing singing on film. There would be entire websites dedicated to chronicling which actors and actresses had sung and which had not. Some actresses, like Anne Hathaway, would be accused of being closet singers.
• Parents would have to explain to their children, "Beauty and the Beast weren't really singing. They were only lip-syncing."
• Because some people wouldn't be able to quit singing, certain accommodations would need to be made. For example, restaurants in some parts of the country would have singing and non-singing sections. There would be designated singing areas outside of office buildings where people could sing or hum until they got their musical fix. Of course, it would be illegal to sing on planes and a federal offense to sing in lavatories.

I'm sure there are many other possible scenarios and outcomes if singing were discovered to be harmful to one's health, but this exercise has quickly gone from amusing to depressing. Thankfully, there's no scientific proof that singing poses a significant health risk, which is good because a world without singing would be a sad place indeed. Plus, I doubt I could kick the habit even if the doctor said, "Quit or else."

¹ They made this discovery after conducting extensive research on singing mice. To add insult to injury, they had the mice perform songs from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Cats.

² Just to be clear, my singing is the kind of singing that sounds best when accompanied by the sound of running water, hair dryers, vacuum cleaners, lawn mowers, or deafening music. It also sounds best when I'm alone. The presence of other people reduces the quality of my singing due to the disruption they cause in my time/reality continuum.

Last night, Stephen Colbert took my favorite sport (baseball) and one of my favorite authors (Jane Austen), liberally glued them together with comedy, and created a clip worth keeping...

And just in case the video disappears one day, I transcribed the best part of the clip:

"Austen wasn't writing about American baseball. It was a Jane Austen version, where the ball is not hurled about rudely, but introduced to the bat through proper channels at a society function. And one does not steal bases like a commoner; one sends word ahead to the next base by messenger, requesting permission to approach at the base's leisure. Of course, what the bat cannot reveal is that though he loves the ball desperately, he has sworn an oath of loyalty to the glove to whom the ball was promised. So the bat must pretend he hates the ball, swatting at it, though he wishes nothing more than to profess his undying affection, but he can't, he mustn't, he shan't! And so, the bat must retreat to the gardens of his estate and... pine."

Whenever these five songs come on the radio, I find my heels bouncing on the floor and my head bobbing (a safe distance from the floor). Invisible drumsticks appear in my hands and I quickly lose myself in the beat. At the same time, the blood flees from my brain and seeks refuge in my ears, which is a good thing because if I were to actually stop a second to think about the lyrics, the joy would escape from the music, like helium from a balloon. These are songs to raise one's spirit, not necessarily one's intellect.

Note: The videos are from MTV Music, MTV's "beta" site (I hate the phrase "beta", but I like the site).

1. "Shattered" by O.A.R. (I swear it sounds as though James Blunt sings the first verse.)

2. "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay

3. "So What" by Pink

4. "Disturbia" by Rihanna (It starts out sounding a lot like an Aqua song.)

5. "Hot n Cold" by Katy Perry (She and Zooey Deschanel look so much alike, somebody has actually taken the time to do a side-by-side comparison.)

A yearning to return to Yosemite has been building for the last two weeks, fueled by the recent drop in gas prices ($2.599 locally) and inspired by stories and photos of fall colors in the park.

With Veterans Day next Tuesday, this weekend (four whole days!) seemed like the perfect time to get away, but our house has been stirring up trouble and seems to have other plans for our time and money.

It started acting out last Saturday, when the refrigerator's freezer failed (a giant puddle of water in front of the fridge was a huge, wet clue).

On Sunday, the rest of the refrigerator gave out. We salvaged what food we could, but still had to throw away a fair amount of spoiled items.

When the repairman visited yesterday, he initially told me the fridge would be "an easy fix". (In today's market, an easy fix costs roughly $300.) But as soon as he started "fixing" it, he hit a minor snag, namely, the refrigerator was beyond repair. He tried to break the news to me gently.

"Hmm... that's funny," he said, hammering the compressor several times with his wrench. "It's busted." That succinct (and somewhat savage) diagnosis cost seventy bucks.

As he was leaving, he turned to me and said, "Such a shame, a real shame. You know, this is only the second unit I wasn't able to repair."

I was tempted to ask him if this was his second repair call, but resisted the urge, realizing I was experiencing the second phase of grief: anger¹.

Anyway, as I shut the door behind him, I noticed one of the bolts for the door knob rose² was loose. I grabbed a screwdriver, tightened the bolt, and gave the knob a few turns to admire my handiwork. But instead of working better than ever (like it was supposed to), the knob barely budged.

I hastily loosened the bolt, naively thinking that restoring it to its previous state would make the knob work again. It didn't. In frustration, I slammed the door shut, which was a mistake.

It took nearly a minute of twisting, tugging, gritting, and growling to get the door open again. I then spent the next thirty minutes disassembling, lubricating, and reassembling the lock. The result was a well-lubricated, non-functioning lock.

The good news is the house is twice as secure as it was before. Even if a burglar manages to pick the lock, he or she won't be able to get in. The bad news is the front door is essentially a wall with a knob.

This morning, I gave the front door another try and barely made it out alive. M went through the garage, thinking it would be the path of least resistance. She was sadly mistaken. She called me later to say, "The door kept sticking and shutting itself. There's something wrong with the opener."

I was tempted to tell her the house was seeking attention by throwing these paranormal temper tantrums, but I thought that theory might not go over so well. Instead, I told her it was likely the recent drop in temperature that was causing the problem. I'm hoping a little grease and a few adjustments (and maybe some holy water) will fix it. If not, we may be looking for a new garage door opener.

Add the cost of a new opener to the cost of a new lock and new refrigerator, and any near-term travel plans seem awfully remote. The irony, of course, is that now seems like the perfect time to get away from it all.

¹ The grief process for a major appliance has six stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and comparison shopping.

² A term I learned from a visual dictionary (a.k.a. a picture book with definitions).

Today feels like a new day, mostly. Last night's results were bittersweet. Bitter because our state eliminated the rights of some of its citizens with the passage of Proposition 8. Sweet because our country elected Barack Obama.

Almost every blogger I read has either posted his or her reaction to the election or shared where he or she was when the election was called, and I thought it would be good to chime in.

That said, for those who actually want to read my (rather lengthy) post about it, you can, below the fold. For everybody else, I'll just share my favorite election-related map from the New York Times.

It's about time our country made Election Day a national holiday for both symbolic and practical reasons.

National holidays, as a general rule, show what our country values. A quick look at the calendar shows that America values the new year, civil rights, our presidents, our military, our independence, our workers, our "discovery", our veterans (we really like our military), gratitude (or turkey (or, more accurately, the taste of turkey)), and giving (or receiving). If Election Day was added as a national holiday, it would show that America also values voting (a.k.a. the voice of the people).

If it were an official holiday, Election Day would be a celebration of one of our fundamental rights. Not only that, it would have the distinction of being the only practical patriotic holiday of the year.

While the country's calendar is full of holidays celebrating the concept of freedom and the fight for freedom, Election Day would celebrate the exercising of freedom. It would be about more than just waving a flag. It would be about actually allowing people to exercise their right to vote, unhindered. People could go to the polls without worrying about the length of the line or losing part of their pay because of the wait. Plus, more people would be available to volunteer, which could translate into more polling places, making voting more accessible to more voters.

According to the all-knowledgeable Wikipedia, Election Day is already a legal holiday in eight states. In 2005, Bill Conyers of Michigan introduced legislation that would make the day a federal holiday every even-numbered year, with the hope of increasing voter participation. It would be called Democracy Day (lame name, right idea). The legislation was referred to a House committee nearly four years ago and hasn't been touched since (I'm blame it on the name).

I mention this to show it wouldn't take much more effort on the government's part to make this national holiday a reality. It also shows that my idea is neither far-fetched nor all that original, which is important, just in case anybody thought I was only proposing it in a wily attempt to finagle an extra day off from work.

Anyway, to recap, America should make Election Day a national holiday to:

1. show the country values the voice the people,
2. celebrate one of our fundamental rights,
3. allow people to exercise that right, unhindered.