A college friend of mine sent me an odd e-mail Thursday night.
She said she was going to be in the hospital for surgery early Friday morning. She didn't want cards or flowers, but she did want to be remembered in a unique way. So she asked her friends and relatives to sing a song, preferably in public, between 7:30 and 10:30 a.m.
I quickly forwarded the note around to other college friends. You have to know this woman to understand that such a request is in character. A couple of the chums responded by saying they had done spirited versions of "Born to Run" and "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." My wife came up with "I'm a Little Teapot," which I don't recall being on the top 40 at any point in my life.
Me, for whatever reason the Carpenters' song, "Sing," came to mind. The lyrics start, "Sing ... sing a song ... sing out loud ... sing out strong ... sing of happy not sad ..."
The really discouraging thing was that I knew more words than I really should have known. There really should be a way to tell your brain to take such information and put it in the recycle bin, like a computer.
Cheryl's friend sent an update today, and her surgery went very well, so that was good. But also in the e-mail box today was a note from someone else, saying another friend had developed a potentially life-threatening form of leukemia. All of a sudden I'm afraid to turn on the computer.
You can bet this friend would not appreciate a Carpenters' song in public. Remind me to pick up a copy of some of Michael Jackson's lyrics. I just hope our singing has the same good effects on him as it did on Cheryl.