Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

Singing in the shower

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I suppose that we all live up to our stereotypes to certain degree. So being Irish I do like to sing. However, liking and being good at it are worlds apart. By way of an example, and in all truth when I was a wee lad in grammar school I tried to join the school choir. After the tryouts the nun in charge nicely, but firmly led me to the door and told me that my voice would not be needed. Com’on when a nun gives you the bum’s rush you have to be really bad.

However, this has never stopped me. To this day I still sing, but only my venue has changed. I am a classic shower singer. I have a limited repertoire. It consists of “Oh Danny Boy”, (of course) “Sweet Home Alabama”, and “Barnacle Bill The Sailor” (Unabridged version.) Most of which I sing in the long forgotten key of ‘R’.

During the winter everything is copacetic. The reason being my bathroom window is closed. However, when the weather gets warm and the window is open I have to deal with some very irate neighbors. So it looks as if my singing voice has not improved with age.

Once, I had just started in and again there was a pounding at my front door. I figured I had to take some drastic measures so I came to the door, threw it open and there I stood wearing only a smile. There was a loud “Gasp” from the crowd and a panicked stampede in every direction.

When the Kilkenny Brothers moved in they too had a dramatic reaction. The first time I belted out “Sweet Home Alabama” they came running into the bathroom. “Boss, boss, What’s wrong?” “Did you burn yourself?” “Are you hurt” “Don’t you know getting wet is bad for you?” Needless they were very concerned about my well-being.

Now it is a different story. Whenever they see me grab a towel and turn on the shower they hop on the bed and stick their heads under the pillows. Cats have a well-developed sense of hearing that is easily offended. Sometimes I think they wish I would drown. But the shower is not the only place where I sing.

In Irish saloons singing is considered the norm. However, there is a limit to everything and even I get some sidelong glances through squinted eyes and the older guys usually turn off their hearing aids when I walk in. The universal rule of no matter your heritage, when you walk through the door you are instantly Irish applies. Hence, singing is welcome for everyone, except me. I usually get a warning look from the bartender.

I try to restrain myself. But after a couple of pints and a liberal amount of Irish whiskey I just cannot hold back. I rip into a verse of “Oh Danny Boy.” This is usually followed by me getting heaved through the swinging doors.

Oh well, maybe I should have paid attention to the nuns.© 2016, Jim McGowan


Written by harmonycounty

January 14, 2016 at 4:42 p01

Posted in Humor

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