Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Just Plane Bad

It was a beautiful voice. We all agreed on that. We marveled at the perfect pitch. Some of us were envious and wished that we were that talented. Others simply listened transfixed and mystified at the way in which she seemed - against all logic - to be able to harmonize with herself. We smiled knowingly and went back to our reading materails, calls, and iPods.

During takeoff, the singing became a nusiance. Like an itch. Our smiles grew tighter and our books more difficult to concentrate on. We could no longer distract ourselves with phone calls, so we turned up our iPods further torturing the people in the seats near us by forcing them to listen to the music seepage from our earphones.

As the plane leveled off, she stopped singing. It must have been a nervous habit we said, as our shoulders relaxed and we reveled in the newfound silence. Then she began to speak - loudly, screechy, and reedy - and we realized that all of the beauty that a voice could have went into her singing, leaving no trace of lovliness for her to use when speaking.

We spend the next two hours of the flight considering begging her to sing again for we knew by now that silence - glorious silence - was not an option at our disposal.