Some people have talent. I have been rather seriously short changed in that department. I was banned from finger painting in the first grade. Some people can't color inside the lines, I couldn't keep the paint on the paper. Then I bombed in my acting debut as Goldilocks in the 4th grade. No one in the audience heard one line as I mumbled Brando like into my chest. Finally, people either split a gut laughing or run in terror when I sing.
I gave up acting completely but I still sporadically attempt pencil sketching for my own amusement and sing when I am pretty sure no one else is around. I find singing fun to do but try to not inflict it on others and usually confine it to my car with the windows rolled up.
Criminy, hearing myself made me realized then just how kind my friends had been all those years who had said nothing. I knew then I should only sing in private or for laughs. I quickly learned in group singalongs to stand close to a really loud and proud singer and would lip sync away totally unnoticed. Yes, even for Happy Birthday.
Age has not mellowed my voice but made it worse. Now besides sliding off key, my voice cracks more than an adolescent boy's.
Recently with all the news coverage on Prince, I discovered the song "Purple Rain". I hadn't heard it before for during his prime, I was a newly formed country fan. I was really intrigued by his bluesy style on that song and downloaded it to my computer. I love it.
The other day, I was listening to "Purple Rain" playing on my computer while reading your blogs and I started singing along. I started off first in my usually soft. shy voice for my own ear comfort as well as any innocent passersby but then I got into it and let er rip.
Out of nowhere, I felt a tap on my shoulder. When you live alone, a tap like that quickly brings to mind episodes of Criminal Minds or Ghost Busters. Pretty sure I'd have seen a serial killer enter the room so I was leaning towards it being a frisky ghost. Perhaps an appalled and offended Prince?
When I peeked uneasily over my shoulder, there was Minnie the cat reaching for me from the edge of the bed. She kept reaching and tapping so I rolled my chair closer to her still singing. I couldn't believe what happened next. She went a little nuts. She began purring, moaning, sensually rolling and head butting me with a nip or two thrown in for good measure.
At first I was concerned for her physical and mental health thinking I had driven her over the edge with my singing. Then it hit me what was happening and I got the giggles. She has been spayed since I found her 12 years ago yet she was acting a lot like a cat in heat.
I have sung other songs before with out that reaction so "Purple Rain" must be her turn on song. My rendition evidently reminded her of the good old days when she was an intact female and I must have sounded for all the world to her like a tom cat looking for love. What a memory that cat has and wow, I really am that bad of a singer.
Some people make a joyful noise when they sing. I evidently only make a noise similar to a horny cat---but I intend to continue. Now at least my caterwauling gives someone besides me actual pleasure.
Are you one of the lucky ones who can sing unafraid or are you like me and are a closet singer who should remain closeted?