More and more lately I’ve found myself muttering out loud to someone who isn’t there. I’ll be walking through a parking lot, wondering what’s going on with a driver who obviously doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, and I’ll say something under my breath like, “What the hell is he doing?” I know! Cursing like a gosh darn sailor.

It’s not as if I’m not used to the sound of my own voice. When I’m home alone (redundancy alert), I have long conversations with myself. I’m never more articulate than when I’m my only listener. And I can argue both sides of any point with equal fervor and conviction, as long as there’s no one else involved. I think it actually sharpens my wit for those rare occasions when I’m in an actual conversation with another human, rather than the phantoms.

Where I’m most vocal is where I’m most isolated, behind the wheel of my car. It’s also where I’m most focused. I have a lot to say to the other drivers, especially when I know they can’t hear me. I don’t really want them to hear me, in fact, although if they listened they would probably learn a thing or two about good driving. Once a guy at a stop sign got out of his car and came to my window. “You got anything to say to me?” he asked.

“No,” sez I. “Just get moving.” He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just got back in his car and drove off. I don’t think I was even talking to him that time. I’m pretty sure I was singing along with the radio.

But this muttering in public can be embarrassing, especially when someone is within earshot and I don’t notice them until after I’ve had my say. Usually I just pretend to be singing to myself, because I think that’s less crazy-seeming than talking to the phantoms. For some reason, people give me a little more room after I do that. Either they don’t want to get too close to a nut job, or they don’t want to hear me sing.