Echoes.

Today is a beach sort of day.
Living in Memphis means that I’m basically shit out of luck, but that doesn’t stop me from turning on my “I’m going to the beach!!!!” soundtrack on the way to work when I’m in this mood.
And yes, that particular line – I’m going to the beach!!!! – must always be accompanied by no less than 4 exclamation points to highlight the excitement one MUST feel by going to the beach.
It’s in the Constitution.
Right under the bit about arming bears and using turn signals on the freeway.

This morning it was the Who – and I jammed along to “Magic Bus” as only a girl who is completely out of her decade musically can, which only reminds me of the fact that you guys have yet to see me jam to Frank Sinatra and really should before you die, as nothing says hot and sexy quite like a grown woman jamming to a rockin’ swing beat.

No, I don’t really get out much… why do you ask?

While on this incredibly energetic drive/jam session, I noticed that although I know the basic gist of the song, I have NO IDEA what half of the words are saying. I’ve got the main “Magic Bus” part down – because I’m not a total idiot, but have been singing for years in this sort of loud drunken-ish method that I usually save for Bob Dylan or Hootie and the Blowfish songs.
I’ll probably stick to my method because it works and also means that when I am actually drunk I sound just as good as when I’m sober.
It also makes me sound like a lyrical genius who even can figure out what those few little words are at the end of “Respect” but just can’t master the art of singing well enough to enunciate clearly.

After a few nights of bad karaoke, I know that I’m not the only person that employs this method of lyric recognition.