It’s time to come clean: I have an addiction. I twitch after just moments of withdrawal. My obsession creates a bubble around me of disgusted annoyance. It also permanently glues the hands of those around me to their ears. That’s right. I cannot help but belt random songs in public. Whether it’s humming my favorite metal rock piece or screaming a ditty by Mozart, I can’t resist the rhythmic pulsation of my vocal chords.  But of all my lyrical talents, the most praise-worthy and meaningful would have to be my interruptions of other people’s conversations with singing whenever I hear a phrase remotely similar to some song I’ve heard in the past.
What gives me a rush is bellowing Bob Marley after hearing “Everything’s gonna be all right” and receiving murderous, shocked looks from the women consoling the sobbing, recently-widowed female. For some odd reason, however, this always rubs people the wrong way.

The way I see it, every spoken sentence is an opportunity to tap into gorgeous art. Plus, doesn’t everyone need a bit more music in their life? There they are, talking about some secretary’s bosom, and I brighten their day with “I’m Sexy and I Know It.”

Throughout my many travels, I’ve experimented with an assortment of nationalities and ages. My fondest memory of impromptu, unwanted vocalization has to be my singing of Enrique Iglesias’ “I Can Be Your Hero” after a crying girl lost her kite in Barcelona, Spain. Or, to be more culturally accurate, “Puedo Ser Tu Heroé.”
  But keeping in mind our cultural differences, the reactions of all the people whose conversations I’ve improved by riffing are basically the same. It’s truly riveting: the universal disgusted facial expressions and profanities they have after their terribly mundane conversations are disturbed by the melodies of the Beatles or Rebecca Black.

It doesn’t matter if you’re divorced or married, European or Asian, Grammy-award winning or tone deaf. When it comes to dealing with a random bystander, butting in with ear-piercing warbling, the response is as cookie-cutter as it gets. What does matter, however, is finding and taking advantage of all the opportunities out there for creative inspiration. No matter the type of person, setting, or song, there’s always a way to enhance the soundtrack that is life.

You’re probably wondering why I don’t ask people before trying to create a cappella groups out of thin air. Or simply sing in the shower or a recording studio like a normal human being. All legitimate questions. But would I ever have found my soul mate if I hadn’t walked across a high school cafeteria, pushed aside her lunch tray, and began a duet of “Love Is an Open Door” from Frozen in front of the entire student body?

Of course not. We not only accompany each other on dinner dates, but are also each other’s harmonizers when briskly cutting into a random couple’s chat about erectile dysfunction. Call it a double date. What better person to spend the rest of my life with than the girl willing to hum “Flight of the Bumblebee” during a scalding political debate about income tax?

A bit of a digression: the conversations people have at funerals are probably the oddest to interrupt. Perhaps it’s the open casket with a loved one standing five feet away or the puffy eyes of the sobbing family, but something about that setting just sets people completely off. Yeah, people can be so rude.

But that’s exactly what makes the action so exhilarating. Every closed circle of strangers has a new song just waiting to burst from some unknowing person’s latest sentence. All it takes is a set of lungs, a lack of shame, and the determination to transform simple phrases into a stunning, out-of-place tune to discover the potential beauty in everything.

I’ve made the acquaintance of baseball pitchers in their dugouts during the 7th inning stretch. I’ve introduced myself lyrically to particle physicists unraveling the secrets of the universe next to the drone of a particle accelerator. One time, I popped into the middle of a group of suited men with sunglasses and, voila, there was Barack Obama! The President himself, smiling nervously as he watched me sing “God Bless America” while being dragged by my limbs to an undisclosed location.

I must admit, sometimes I do feel regret for disturbing some random stranger’s peace and quiet, especially if it’s by chanting “We Will Rock You” to a single mother that just managed to put her baby to sleep. But then I remember that I’m adding color into their lives and the logic behind my actions all comes rushing back to me.
After all, happiness and beauty can be found in the tiniest letters or words. You just have
to take life by the invisible microphone, cast aside all empathy, and yodel away.