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I bought a ukulele thinking it would make me instantly charming. Now I'm just the guy carrying around a tiny guitar, looking like I'm auditioning for the role of "the whimsical neighbor" in a sitcom. Spoiler alert: It hasn't helped my dating life.
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I don't trust people who claim they can't dance. We all have an inner rhythm; it's just a matter of finding the right beat. If you can't dance, blame it on your "unique interpretive style" – suddenly, you're not a terrible dancer; you're an avant-garde performance artist.
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Ever notice how every musical has that one character who can't resist breaking into song in the middle of a conversation? If I did that in real life, people would just think I've had too much coffee and need to switch to decaf. "I'll take a grande latte with a side of jazz hands, please.
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I tried to impress my date by playing the triangle in a band. Turns out, being the "ding" guy isn't as glamorous as it sounds. I felt like I was in a musical version of Pavlov's experiment, except instead of salivating, people just stared at me waiting for the next "ding.
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You ever notice how musical instruments are like pets for adults? I mean, you bring home a guitar or a keyboard, and suddenly you're responsible for feeding it chords and taking it out for a jam session walk. And just like pets, your neighbors don't appreciate it when you let it howl at the moon past midnight.
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I don't understand how people can dance to complex music. I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time. Trying to dance to a song with intricate beats and rhythm feels like my body is having a disagreement with itself. I call it the "uncoordinated cha-cha.
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You know you're an adult when you get excited about a new kitchen appliance. I recently bought a blender that plays music while it blends. Now, making a smoothie feels like attending a concert in my own kitchen. I just hope the blender doesn't request an encore after every mix.
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I bought a tambourine the other day because I thought it would make me look cool. Now, I'm just walking around my house, trying to incorporate a tambourine into everyday tasks. Showering with a tambourine? It's like I'm auditioning for the cleanest rock band ever.
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I envy birds. They wake up every morning and just burst into song. If I tried that, my neighbors would think I'm auditioning for a musical they didn't sign up to hear. Maybe I should start singing in the shower; at least there's some built-in applause there.
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Isn't it strange that we applaud musicians for playing multiple instruments? I mean, if I tried to play more than one instrument at a time, it would sound like a cat got stuck in a bag of maracas. Yet, they get a standing ovation. Bravo, maestro, for not tripping over your own guitar cords.
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