Sitting in my childhood bedroom, trying to do work, make calls, be productive while distractions abound: my dad knocks on the door to inform me there’s a deer in the backyard and I should come and take a look (didn’t even notice I was on a conference call); my mom yells upstairs for me to email her an address of a mutual friend; then shortly after calls my cell to ask if I would edit her real estate listing for her right now because it needs to be sent out in ten minutes. All of this, of course, leads to me unloading the dishwasher, setting the table for tonight’s dinner party and then getting ready for said dinner party.
As I try to get in a free hour of work before the guests arrive, I hear the thumping of a microphone coming from the living room below me. Then, the first few bars of an electronic version of a Billy Joel song. And finally, my sister’s half speaking-half singing voice trying to keep up with the lyrics to “It’s Still Rock ‘n Roll to Me,” as they flash across the TV screen. Most families have cocktail hour on Friday evenings, mine has Karaoke hour. Let the ear-bleeding begin!
P.S. She scored a 25 out of a possible 100 on her rendition of that tune. I’m sure Billy Joel would be super proud.