I can hear
Raucous and uncontrolled laughter coming from the other room.
It is my grown up son watching a clip on YouTube.
His laughter knows no bounds.
If you are in the vicinity, he is not dying , nor is he being cruelly tortured (although the star of the clip may well be).
It is just his fun.
In college, he was nicknamed Psycho.
Out of my window, I hear-
Out of tune, reedy warbling, as a teenager (female) practices singing, no doubt she wishes to be on Britain's got talent.
She is oblivious to the awfulness of her voice and the repetitiveness and pointlessness of the lyrics.
When my daughter professed a desire to be a singer, we did the kindest possible thing we could think of and bought her a tape recorder with a microphone.
It is surprising the first time we hear own own recorded vocals just as it is strange to hear our own family members speaking on the phone for the first time. Seemingly we are listening to a stranger who's voice is nothing like we hear with our bare ears.
Our daughter on hearing her own voice, in the flesh as it were, took up Violin.
No comments:
Post a Comment