I should be in wax

Do re mi fa so la . . .

The scales trip the tongue.

Every time it feels like the Sound of Music. Almost silly even. I'd rather be in the wax museum with lions and bears. Al Roker. He's there too. Post-surgery. I'd seen it once.

Al was the storm king, the god of thunder, the Thor of Channel 4. That was before Today.


. . . Ti do ti la so fa mi re . . .

Just how do you solve a problem like Maria?

I had tried to figure that out in a book I once wrote. That nobody read. Even those who said they did. My wife. She never finished it. Because of the character named Maria. Sometimes I think it was unreadable.

An art project. That's all it was. Conceptual. I should be in wax.


La la la la la la la la la la . . .

Breaking a glass like Miyagi with a knife-edge chop.

Wax on. It all fits even when you think it doesn't. Miyagi didn't know karate for real and they were doing Tang Soo Do anyway, which is Chuck Norris's gig. You know, Mike Huckabee's best friend. At least in Iowa.

My friends called a kid wax in high school. He had bad skin.


. . . La la la ladi ladi ladidooo . . .