Screeching.

So Tom (the fine gentleman of a pussycat that lives owns our house) and I have a special way of communicating. I sing a little non-worded tune at him and he comes running, regardless of where he may be in the house. In the early days of our relationship I would sing in this obnoxious falsetto screech of a voice that would make the wallpaper curl in our old farmhouse, but I can no longer do that since my voice finally changed when I turned 40. I don’t embrace my bass like voice but I sing in a range that no longer makes the garage door open and close.

A few moments ago he was approaching his food dish so I sang my little tune. This tune is composed of just a few notes and resides in a minor key. It has a haunting quality to it, especially when I let my vibrato tremble. OoooOoOOOooooOOOooo. It was then that I hit a totally shocking realization.

Holy copyright infringement!

The tune I sing is one that I heard when I was a kid. It’s from that “Wonder Woman” episode where Martin Mull plays an evil flute player that can disintegrate steel with his haunting melody and odd sounding flute.

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Not only can he pulverize bank vaults but he can also reprogram Eve Plumb! And make Wonder Woman look drowsy!

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Electra Ear Splitting!

And all I was trying to do was alert Tom to let him know his kibble had been served in his gilded bowl.

I’ll have to sing a new tune now.

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