My husband is a musical genius, or at least that’s what people tell me. That’s him up there. His business card says that he is a composer and arranger, but he thinks that sounds pompous. So, I’ll just say that he is a musician.
These days he’s preparing for a concert he’s doing at a local theater. His Fender Rhodes, piled with sheet music, crackles and pops as he plays. Occasionally, he’ll ask me to play a melody for him on my saxophone, which I stumble painfully through. I’m not a musical genius. No one needs to tell me that.
He often complains about being unable to name his tunes. Since I fancy myself as a writer, I figure I can help with this dilemma. I’ve come up with brilliant titles such as, “Poop beaten gold,” a quote from Shakespeare’s Anthony and Cleopatra and “Life’s frailest barks” a quote from Phila Earle Hanely. Unfortunately, none of these have met his approval so they are yet to be used.
The other day, he asked me for help naming a tune he had tentatively titled “Beloved Son”. Wanting to make sure I came up with the best and most appropriate title, I asked him what he wrote it about. He told me a story about a Chinese movie he had seen about a family wandering around after being kicked out of their house. “It’s kind of a vague wandering,” he said. I didn’t think that “Vaguely Wandering Chinese People” would be a good name so I turned to my trusty thesaurus.
First I looked up vague and found the usual words like indeterminable, indistinct and unplanned. Towards the end of the list of words was nebulous. Then I looked up wander and found words like meander and drift. Towards the end of that list was the word mooch. “Why do they list the best words last?” I wondered until I realized they were in alphabetical order.
“Nebulous Mooch,” I said aloud and he actually typed it across the top of the page. Nebulous mooch. Sometimes I whisper it when I’m alone in the bathroom. Nebulous Mooch.