Saturday, August 14, 2010

The One With The Theme Song.

Dear Lover,

I have one of those iPods that has speakers.
So the uncomfortable ear buds aren't necessary.
And when I walk with Dorothy Parker each night, I take it along.
Tuck it inside my sports bra.
Which muffles the volume quite a bit.
And mostly, only I can hear it.
So it doesn't bother other walkers I pass.
There is always a millisecond of a moment.
When I do pass another walker.
And our eyes lock as we pass.
And I notice a slight wrinkle forming between their eyes.
A do-you-hear-that sort of wrinkle.
A where-in-the-world sort of wrinkle.
A where-in-the-world-is-that-music-coming-from sort of wrinkle.
And I chuckle.
Because it's like I have my own theme song.
A song that plays over and over in my head.
And follows me around wherever I go.
Like on Ally McBeal.
A song I can hum to.
And shake my shoulders along with.
While walking.
And waiting at curbs.
Just bobbing my head.
Causing others to faintly hear it too.
And begin to shake their own shoulders.

Just one step closer to living the life of a musical...
How wonderful is that thought?


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