Sunday morning sees us off to church with dear Aunt Debbie. We use a service setting that I have recited since the days of my youth, so I know all of it by memory. I spend the six days in between church singing bits and pieces of the hymns. It is not uncommon for me to get a tune stuck in my head, and, being that I am a pop culture reject at the moment (and have been since the death of my mp3 collection), hymns are pretty much...it.

I find that my quiet singing of them unnerves those in company. I get wide eyed looks that say, "You shame me...I just burped," and the like. I saw my father hesitate over the tab on a can of beer on one occasion. My brother, fresh from a shower and wrapped in a towel one evening, rushed by quickly...it's unholy to be naked, I guess.

I find the discomfiture highly amusing.