But how do you look Harrumph?
Maybe like this:
|Photo courtesy of C.Larsen.|
I felt Harrumphy too.
My arms felt Harrumphy,
and they sent shooting pains down to my wrists.
But then I remembered jolly things, like the soybeans I ate for lunch.
(Still on a soybean kick.)
Or when the chin-rest maker let me picnic on his hilly front lawn while he varnished wood and told me funny stories about Heifetz.
Or how refreshing the country air feels when it blows through the trees.
And then I put in an unlabeled CD stolen from H.'s car and proceeded to have a seated dance party with myself. No one else noticed since they were busy Harrumphing. Thank goodness. I also had a sing along to Handel's Messiah. "EEEEVVERRRYYY VALLLEEEYYYY." (LOVE LOVE LOVE.) I finally listened to the complete Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto and the Mendelssohn Concerto, too. So I ended up switching back and forth between Messiah, MGMT, Michael Jackson, the Weepies, Regina S., Mika, Tchaikovsky, Mendelssohn, and random gospel songs. Eclectic driving mix, but it made the 4 hour commute more bearable. Rather ironic that the first Messiah track to play after listening to Michael Jackson was "And He Shall Purify".
I had a jolly good time.
And there was no more Harrumphing. At least not for me.