Rumble in the Bronchial
2005-05-06,

If you ever had a question as to whether I was a bass in high school choir for two years (useless trivia: I started as a Bass II in HS choir and finished my senior year as a Tenor I. It got confusing singing the Halleluiah Chorus for the Xmas show toward the end of HS), catch me when I have a chest cold.

I went home early from work yesterday because the aforementioned wonkiness had reached peak levels. I was hoping that I'd get better as the day went on and activity shook out the worst of it, but it didn't happen. Thus I started wobbling my way home at around 11am. On the way, as I often do, I sang in the car. I was too wonky to mess with finding a CD or setting up our mp3 player with the funky FM transmitter thingy, and I had no interest in turning on the radio. I'll either sing something I know or make up some stupid song that often degrades into nonsense sound experiments. One of my classic car-based songs is an ode to the far right lane on Carnegie Ave. heading into Cleveland Heights, called 'Miracle Lane', due to its oft empty-of-drivers status.

Anyway, singing on the way home from leaving work early. I was experimenting with my temporary bass status, and found that I was getting down lower than usual even for the state I was in. You know the bass line from the song "Blue Moon"? I was singing it an octave lower. Rumble rumble. If only I could do that all the time. Considering that H's secret wish is that I was in fact a bass, I was surprised that she didn't attempt to duct tape her head to my chest for the duration of my illness just to feel the vibrations. It would have made for an awkward work morning today, I suppose.

I've developed a love-hate relationship with my lunch hour, which is especially strong when it's nice out, like today. On one hand, it makes me get home that much later, though I suppose a little after 5pm isn't all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

On the other hand, it forces me to Go Outside-- for walks, for rest, for park exploration, for running errands, etc. I just got back from lunch a little while ago (yes, I'm writing this at work. Scorn! Hey, I've got to do something during these boring tests other than watch the thing go up and down.), wherein I downed my meager lunch, then promptly took a nap in the park, lying in the grass near a baseball diamond. Damn, but that was nice, though it made it hard to come back to work. Nothing says, "Go play hooky," like a nap in the park. As an added bonus, lying in the sun did seemed to burn out some of whatever it is that's living in my lungs right now. I certainly won't miss the fiberglass.

But on the other hand... there is no other hand! No marrying a Russian soldier for you! Tradition!! [breaks it down, grapevine-style, yo]

Fun with Visio - Vol. 1, Ep. 6-- 'Office Politics 01':

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