My friend Quincy is an amazing artist. He can make every day a "musical day", singing every interaction and emotion. He's living the dream, writing scores and scripts in Manhattan, rubbing shoulders with people who actually go to the Tonys. He's my favorite celebrity.
I've thought a lot about him this week as I have surely entered some stage of hell at the office. I am convinced that Satan whistles incessantly. There's certainly no room for that crap in heaven. A little whistling here and there - nice. Incessant - horrible.
I work with one whistler and one hummer.
The whistler is memorizing lines for The Sound of Music. Edelweiss should not be whistled, it should be hummed.
The hummer has a daughter who recently learned about Phantom of the Opera. Ever notice how you can hum any of the songs from that musical and you land on the same phrase? That one phrase... that's what he hums... three days and counting.
I don't know how you do it, Q$. I really don't.
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