Go tell it on the mountain

I cannot sing. This is no secret. I have been justly accused of being "tone deaf". I am not complaining just laying some groundwork.

My fellow "tone deaf" friend and I enjoyed the musical stylings of one kick-ass choir last evening in a lively and bombastic (I love bombast) interpretation of Carmina Burana. You know this music as it's been popularized by Hollywood folk for a very long time. My personal favorite co-opt of the Carmina Burana is from my second most-favorite movie ever "The Mission" starring one hairy and delicious Robert DeNiro and Jeremy Irons. If you have by some freak stroke of un-luck never seen "The Mission", I excuse you from reading the rest of this blog until you have in fact seen "The Mission". It's that good. Anyway, Carmina Burana figures prominently throughout "The Mission". It's also in a whole bunch of other movies but we're getting way off topic here.

So I cannot sing. That was the original thread here. I cannot. I can't. It's not within the wide realm of my talents. It pains me actually. To the very deepest core of my super talented being, I feel this lack. Yes, it's true. My Achilles heel exposed for all to point at and laugh. Go ahead.

Good, now that you're finished with that nonsense, in closing I'd like to wish upon you good tone to make up for my chasm of tone deafness. Wasn't that generous of me? I think so. I can be really nice sometimes. I really do hope you can sing and that you do it in the streets and in the shower and on the subway and at restaurants and movie theaters and bars and pretty much everywhere. But if by chance you are as unlucky as me to be classified as "tone deaf", please do shut up.

Thanks for listening.