I don’t know what it is, but music brings out the rock star in all of us.  I don’t care who you are or where you are, if your favorite song comes on, out comes The Voice. People literally stop what they are doing or thinking and get humming or killing it softly at minimum.  I think secretly we all wouldn’t mind a little stage and backup band.  Ok, maybe I want to be a rock star but I’ve seen some things that tell me I’m not alone.

I am often shocked at where those voices crop up.  Trader Joes plays pretty good tunes at times, digging from the 70s and 80s, say the Go Gos “Our Lips are Sealed.”  I saw a shopper once holding a dozen eggs, standing next to her cart, thinking to herself and singing along.  I saw the lips move and a jiggle in her hips.  I couldn’t hear her because I was far off in the land of produce.  I know the lyrics so I know her lips were not asking, “Now where is the milk?”  I’ve also noticed the opposite can happen with a bad song, say Barry Manilow “I Can’t Smile Without You.”  Then lips are really sealed.  The eggs are hastily tossed into the cart and shoppers are running for checkout.

My middle-schooler carpool has its surprises.  The swimmers love their tunes.  And when that favorite song comes on, off the guys go and they are not shy about it.  One of them is rather reserved and speaks very little.  But a favorite plays and he’s belting out the refrain.  My son is one of those belters too.  Early teenagers are the most self-conscious people on the planet but when it comes to a favorite song, there is no holding back. And they are pretty good too.

My swimmer sings his new favorite song over and over, in the car of course.  He took it to the pool during a kick-set, just to drive his carpool mate crazy a little more beyond the drive over.  He didn’t stop there either.  He stared over him while his buddy swam backstroke and sang more “Mission Bells” to him.  “Don’t you care if others hear you?”  “Ah no.  It’s not like my voice is terrible.”  I’m not sure I could do that and I’m not in middle school and I don’t’ think my voice is terrible either.  This is a whole other level.

My PT guy isn’t shy either.  He’s working on my knee and there is a pause in the conversation.  Pink Floyd comes on and off he goes, pretty much right in my ear.  Here he is in work-mode, sitting so close to me any crack or flat note will be noted.  It makes me smile.  He loves his songs so much he just lets go no matter the patient.

And then there are those songs that get the whole carload going, like a band.  A few days ago, the Beach Boys, “Barbara Ann” fills the car.  My entire family is singing because it’s a song that you sing screechy and silly on purpose.  And the same spontaneous opportunity happened with my own brothers.  I’m driving them to my house from BART at Thanksgiving.  “American Pie” comes on and we all start singing!  I’ve never heard my brothers carry a tune, EVER!!!!  Only music can make a family spontaneously bond, never anything like broccoli.  “We so found the greenest broc…”  Can’t see it!

Lately my boys are up for asking what I have planned for the day.  “I think I’m going to organize my jewelry and sing to myself.”  My swimmer started laughing.  “Sing to yourself?”  “Yeah.  Don’t you sing to yourself?”  “Sure.  But I don’t plan it.”  I just know if I set my random playlist on my iphone I’ll become Pat Benatar or a member of Journey.  I like the current music too, “Carry On” by fun and “Ho Hey” by The Lumineers, my new serenade song for the hubby.  The old stuff comes back faster and with more fire, taking me back I suppose.

I took my rock star quest a step further and picked up guitar.  I was really into it.  I made my debut moment an anniversary present after just ten months.  I learned how to play and SING “Anyone Else But You” from the movie Juno.  I cleared the house of all kids.  My hubby and I started sipping Gloria Ferrer sparkling wine; I needed it.  My audience sat on one side of the living room and I sat next to him in another chair, 10 feet away.  I told him I couldn’t make eye contact.  Besides, I’m not a real entertainer.  I sang it twice.  The first time I got kind of emotional and nervous.  I was more confident the second time and I wanted the present to be really good.  Reviews were positive, no choice.

This was my first and last stage moment.  Not because my husband didn’t love it; he did.  Things got busy.  Somebody got injured and needed tending.  And well it just sort of fell by the wayside.  I keep thinking I’ll go back.  I’m hesitant as it does take time.  The ears are more critical in my house now and the owners are not afraid to express their opinions.   I told my husband next life, I want to be Taylor Swift.  I saw her on 60 Minutes and became an instant fan.  My husband says it’s not too late.  Well, maybe I’ll work on another anniversary present with the guitar and wear bright red lipstick; that’s close enough to a rock star.

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