Grit Blogs > My Bad Sheep

Falsetto Song

I've always loved falsetto singers - those few male singers who can let their voices soar into the soprano range with the effortless throats of a songbird. I think my affection began when listening to Roy Orbison at an early age, marveling that he could effortlessly hit the highest of notes, then return to a throaty male growl without missing a beat.  Years later I was introduced to Hawaiian singers such as Israel K., and again marveled at their unfettered and joyfully soaring voices. I also learned of the castratos of early religious fame who sung in choirs.

But I never thought I would hear falsetto expertly rendered on my own property until The Peanut Gallery (a.k.a. Hubby) decided to avenge my yellowjacket attackers by pour gasoline in their garden hidey-hole and setting them alight.

Now, the thing you need to know about Jackets (besides their ground-nesting capabilities, recently uncovered by Moi when mowing the Back 40) is that they build their abodes with an 'escape hatch' a ways away from their main entrance, 'just in case'.

TPG and I had viewed the same National Geographic and Animal Planet shows but apparently this key fact was lost in the lust for revenge.

TPG carefully chose his time - twilight, then Jackets are sluggish and have mostly returned home for the night - but not his attack attire (a terrycloth bathrobe).

He poured his cocktail of gasoline and oil mix into the Jacket entryway, stepped back, and dropped in a flaming match - and his falsetto song impressed the neighbors 3 acres away as an instant trail of flame zoomed at warp speed between his legs to the back exit of the Jacket next downhill, where the mix has quickly leaked.

Luckily nothing essential caught ablaze, but for a moment Bill was singing the blues and a small cloud of Rear Guard Jackets were humming right along as the rest 'o the nest blazed in a cheerful kind of 'come sit beside me and toast marshmallows' manner.

Providing that it doesn't take castration, Hawaiian heritage, or a rare gene to produce falsetto music.

ANY male can achieve this with a can 'o gas and a well-placed match....


"...with a little group effort, we an LIFT this baby!"