An Unusual Request Via Email
Subject line in email:
It’s out. Now that everyone knows I’m rebellious and, therefore, a sinner, they want my services. I wish they wouldn’t ask me through email, though, because that stuff is traceable. I prefer to sin offline where it is harder to detect. When I run a yellow light (a grievous sin if ever there was one), I don’t want it easy to track me down.
But since I’m just starting out on my road to egregious sinning (I drive barefoot all the time, with my shoes clandestinely set to the side on the floorboard in a place where I can quickly put them on if I’m pulled over), I take the sinning jobs when I can.
I dared to open the email.
Well! That is something completely different! Dangit, I soooo wanted a sinning job. But a singing job will do. Except…
I opened the attachment, expecting to see a music score. Instead, I saw a contract!! A CONTRACT!!! He wanted me to SING A CONTRACT!
Woohoo?
I remember an anecdote where Ray Bradbury (I believe) walked into his publisher’s office and sang his contract because that’s what they asked him to do in the letter they sent him (this was before email), then he left. I’ve always wanted to do that. Now I have the opportunity. I get to SING A CONTRACT! Just like Ray Bradbury!
The downside is that of late I’m not in good voice. It has been a long time since I’ve sung, and although I’m not half bad, I’m also not half good.
So I asked my friend, who is a tenor extraodinaire, if he would coach me. He lives in Kentucky so I had to get on this right away if I was to be in good voice by morning.
I practiced all night — mostly in my dreams.
♯♫ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♯♪ ♪
The next day, I got a phone call.
“Please fax the signed contract to…..”
What?? How can I sing through a fax machine??? This is ridiculous.
Sigh.
On the bright side, I didn’t have to sin.
Take heart. You will be singing to sinners.
July 28, 2012 at 10:30 am
I already do. Everyday. At home. I’m my biggest fan and favorite sinner. You should hear me when the vacuum cleaner is on….
July 28, 2012 at 10:35 am
Nothing I would enjoy more. Except maybe when you turn the vacuum off.
July 28, 2012 at 10:36 am
Oh, well. That’s just screeching. Much like the fax machine.
July 28, 2012 at 10:38 am
One woman’s screeching is another man’s music.
July 28, 2012 at 10:39 am
The saving grace is that I’m an alto, so my screeching doesn’t pierce eardrums like the fax machine does.
July 28, 2012 at 10:45 am
Congrats Dezra. Wish I had a contract. The only ones I get are for a ‘hit’ and I don’t want to do that anymore.
July 28, 2012 at 10:47 am
So no Bonnie and Clyde trips whenever I make it out to Colorado? Darn!
July 28, 2012 at 11:17 am
No, we can certainly rob banks, I just don’t want to be a contract killer. Robbing banks will be like going to the playground for me.
July 28, 2012 at 12:04 pm
Love the piece of Ray Bradbury history–and I believe I remember the same anecdote. I was very impressed when I read it, too. And as for singing the contract–I’m reminded of the starving African tribe who, in desperation, put out a large pan of their home brew to see what might make itself available to fill their cooking pot. A local lioness had a few young, but large cubs, and one of them wandered close to the village, smelled the tempting beverage, drank its fill, and staggered into the village, whereupon they were able to dispatch it quickly and make a grand stew. And they were able to dine on the sotted lion.
July 28, 2012 at 6:57 pm
I’m beginning to believe it was actually Isaac Asimov who sang the contract (I always mixed up the two). As I researched this online, I noted that Asimov has more “song” references and actually liked to sing, whereas there was nothing about song and singing connected to Bradbury. If I find the anecdote, I will verify and update.
July 29, 2012 at 9:18 am
Love your humor, Dezra. Cleverly written!
July 29, 2012 at 9:10 am
Thanks. Sometimes I Just. Can’t. Help. Myself.
July 29, 2012 at 9:26 am
At least you weren’t being asked to singe anything
July 29, 2012 at 6:39 pm