Too much Time and Never Enough

Time is a valuable thing. It's constantly moving. You can't pause it. You can't get it back. Pushing forward. It can comfort you knowing it will pass. Make you anxious as seconds tick away. Hinder you by not leaving enough. Pass you by completely oblivious that it can multiply from minutes to hours to days to years. And for me, wanting to make every moment count, I can never have enough and yet unable to fill every second. Not wanting to waste such a perishable enigma. Trying to move in tango with the hour hand, stumbling over the minute hand, swept aside by the second hand. I cling to the clock. And still have lost another minute when all is said and done.

Sing with a band at a bar…check

I started off the New Year checking one item off my mini bucket list. My friend bravely agreed to let me sing with his band, Down Wilson at our neighborhood bar, the Tortoise and Hare on New Year’s Eve. I am realizing that my self-indulgent journey requires some strategic planning. There were some minor glitches.

Here is how I locked in my singing with the band. All great ideas are formulated over too many cocktails. One random Sunday Fun day, which started off as a nice leisurely girls’ brunch and ended up a 10 hour tour de Arlington, resulted in my booked gig. So how you might ask was I able to close this deal? Mind out of the gutters people! It was with a promise to sing Miley Cyrus’ song Party in the USA.

Now I am not in the least bit vocally equipped with the voice of a pop star, let alone a teeny bopper pop star, remember I am going on 30 and she is maybe 16. I was a classically trained singer and mostly performed in musical theater productions. I can sing "folky" style music similar to Jewel and Sheryl Crow. My tone and range match nicely with that genre. So why would I suggest Miley as my “ace up my sleeve?” Did I mention we had been drinking? It always sounds like a good idea at the time. Also I think it was on the radio at the bar and everyone was dancing or singing along and we all thought it would be a great upbeat song.

We schedule a mini jam session at my house to rehearse the Miley song. I am a little nervous because I don’t want to make an a$$ out of myself or let my friends down. The jam session goes well and after a few glasses of wine I feel pretty confident. I even tacked on another song, Aerosmith’s Dream On. I think everything could work out fine. I have two weeks to practice before my debut.

Then I get laryngitis. Of course! One week with no voice equaled no practice. All that confidence quickly diminished. I can’t back out because I posted my debut on Facebook to 500 of my closest friends and I can’t let them down. However my voice did come back with 5 days to spare before show time. I spent those final days diligently singing to myself in the mirror, in the shower, in the car, in my cubicle.

THE BIG MOMENT
I chug a glass of wine and step on stage, my friends are strategically placed at the front of the stage armed with a camera to record my performance. The band starts my first song, Dream On. I start singing however it looks like I start miming. I have never sung with a live band. All the instruments are right next to me. In theater the band is in a pit. I can’t hear myself and I know better than to yell in the microphone but no one else can hear me. But the show must go on and I keep performing the first two measures in silent opera form. Luckily my friend turns up the microphone. And let’s be honest the most important part of Dream On is the end so who cares if anyone heard the beginning. And guess what I nailed the high notes…take that Steve Perry!

I am so pumped when the song is over and can’t wait to see the video. Well there is no video. I didn’t think to charge my camera before the event and the camera dies 15 seconds into my debut.

The video doesn't matter because my confidence is back. I take some shots and relax until my next song. The Miley song comes up in the bands second set and is a bit of a blur (partially due to the shots). My girl friends recruited a parade of other girls from the bar (most of which they met in the bathroom line) to come up and dance. Oh and apparently there is some sort of structured dance to the song. I have no clue what this dance is but who cares everyone is out on the dance floor doing an interpretive and somewhat clumsy version of it. I just remember that there was lots of “nodding my head like yeah” and “moving my hips like yeah.” Even guys broke out of their closet...I mean shells and were out there dancing and singing along. I even pulled off the hold-the-mic-out-for-the-crowd-to-sing-into move.

All in all it was a great experience. I felt like a rock star…even after performing the cheesiest song in history. Thanks Down Wilson and all my friends. Now on to my next bucket list item…