Hot Box Trio

        The other day I was in one of my favorite places, the sauna. Sweating peacefully. Had my ears on, listening to my favs shuffling around in the ipod. Minding my own business. One portly young lady, with a wrestling sweat shirt on, fiddled with her phone, a couple of middle aged black men all buffed out hee-hawing about this n that. Typical sweat scene.

After one of the black guyes left, I heard the other asking Ms Portly what she was doing:

“trying to dial up my music, but something’s broken.”

“oh, you like music?”

“yep, I sang the national anthem the other week at a football stadium.”

“really? Let’s hear it.”

“ahhh, no…., I just sing in front of crowds, not real people.”

Meanwhile I’m evesdropping.  Look at the lady wrestler.  I turn off my ears. Pull that plug.

Chime in, “if he and I start, would you join us?”

He nods up and down, “yup, we dad types can sing too.”

I start, “ohhh, say, can you see……” he joins me. Ms Wrestler’s eyes are getting bigger, like, “they are doing this for real….” She joins, softly, wavering a little with doubtful vibrato. He and I pick up the volume. She gains strength. We start to harmonize, different parts.

When the bombs were bursting in air we were really all belting it out. Laughing like hyenas at the end. Congratulating each other, “we were great!” yep, says me,

“Let’s take our act on the road. We be The Hot Box Trio.”

  Solo wrestlers need encouraging jump starts, even when they don't know when or how to ask.