We all know what it means to overhear. Well, I would like to underhear. And what I’d like to underhear are the songs St. Bob sings at full volume, whenever they pop into his head.
these are not legendary hits everyone loves. These are obscure songs from a
zillion years ago, most of which nobody knows. The latest offerings have
included Mississippi Mud, Put Your Shoes
on Lucy (Don’t You Know You’re in the City), The Race is On, Way Out on the
Windswept Desert (complete with yodeling), Kalijah, Buttermilk Sky, and Short Fat Fanny.
Bob could be
the all-time world champion on Name That
Tune, except it isn’t airing anymore, and he’s a game show guy, so thus ineligible.
He can hear one note of intro to some song, and not only tell you the title,
but who recorded it and in what year. He also knows every word, and can imitate
the drummer doing a solo halfway through.
How is there enough time on earth to learn the ins and outs of every song ever recorded? Maybe he has a photographic memory, but for sound. What would that be called? How about annoy-ographic memory?
concede, however, that he has a lovely bass voice and all the guys in the
church choir try to sit by him so they can follow his lead. Either that, or he’s
teaching them Short Fat Fanny.
He’s also my cameraman when I record a
Youtube Mom video. Check ‘em out for life hacks, tips, and motherly