This is a highly stressful time in my neighborhood. Yes, inflation and housing crisis, but also, I HAVE NOW TAKEN UP SINGING LESSONS. In a boon for my laziness but a tragic turn for my neighbors, they happen at home on Zoom.
I have an excellent ear and therefore can tell when singing comes straight from the depths of Hades. You might think that would make me self-conscious and reluctant to belt forth a tune. But no.
After a trial lesson I knew I’d found my teacher. She works with kids too, so she’s HUGELY ENCOURAGING of everything I do and totally unfazed by my musical cluelessness.
Her: Can you sing a C?
Me: No, but I know all the lyrics to ‘1000 Oceans’.
She mentioned my uvula more than once, which I found rather forward in someone I’d just met, but I decided to suck it up. Which may even help my singing, let’s see. You know what clinched it for me though? Her favorite recording artist of all time is Tori Amos. MEANT. TO. BE.
We’re working on two songs: a Tori, and one from musical theatre (ugh). It’s okay, I do like some Andrew Lloyd Webber so we agreed on a short list and have begun with ‘Tell Me On A Sunday’, which is SUPER fun to sing and not at all about longwinded sermons as I had feared.
So friends, if you come to my décolletage of the woods and spot a profusion of FOR SALE / RENT signs, you can stop and smile knowingly to yourself. For the love of Pete though, get the hell out of there before my lesson starts.
Photo by Mika Baumeister
