Carrying a tune

There are public displays of affection.

And there are public displays of singing.

I’m occasionally guilty of the former, frequently guilty of the latter.

I sing in public, and not always where and when it’s appropriate.

My wife Jane, with whom I am guilty of the occasional PDA, has an early memory of the singing me, long before we ever thought of engaging in PDAs.

I came walking into a conference room for a meeting singing the Barenaked Ladies song “If I had $1000000”.

I didn’t go into that meeting consciously singing. It was just something that was in my head that happened to come out of my mouth.

Frankly, the note doesn’t fall far from the tree.

There is a story of my Dad walking into a classroom at the U.S. Air Force Academy where he taught English through the 1960s.

He was singing “Little Old Lady from Pasadena” by the Beach Boys, with cadets joining in the “Go granny, go granny, go granny, go” refrain.

What’s odd is that I’m not much of a singer in church, however.

I like church songs, especially Christmas songs. But most are written and played in the wrong key for me … way too high for this alto voice.

I don’t want to be singing treble in church like Neil Young.

I’m most guilty of public displays of singing while working out at the gym.

I’m dialed into the music on my iPod through a set of Bose earbuds.

Running on the treadmill, seeking the help of Green Day or Mark Knopfler or the Saw Doctors to push, pull or drag me through a run, I barely have enough breath to survive the run, much less have enough breath to sing.

But afterwards, when I get into the weight machine room, I can lose track of where I am and start singing out loud.

I tell ya, within the earbuds and the music, my own voice sounds really, really good: Perfect pitch, perfect harmony.

So why is it that, when my singing is a little too exuberant, I get glances and occasional smiles from others in the room?

It’s probably one of those I’m-so-embarrassed-for-you-grins, especially if the song happens to be a show tune.

But the show must go on. I have a modest 1,480 songs to get through on my iPod.