10 things that happened t o me.
10. When I was in elementary school, I wanted to be in the school singing group… but the first time I auditioned, the music teacher said I sang too softly. I spent the summer singing along to the soundtrack of Annie, belting out the numbers like the girl on the record did. I got into the group the next year, and was the lead in the American premiere of a children’s opera, Cinderella, in eighth grade.
9. The coolest thing about the children’s opera? a local radio show broadcast the entire first act on the air one day. I did an interview with the local paper, too. The opera was modern, with dissonance and all sorts of triple t’s and vocal gymnastics in which I absolutely reveled. I think I stil remember some of it.
8. As a freshman in high school, I had the extraordinary chance to audition for another premiere, this time, a musical to be performed at the Kennedy Center. The auditions had closed the day before, but a friend got me before the director, and a few days later I was understudy to the lead and a member of the Children’s Active Choir in Peace Child, a political musical about the power of people to change the world. The 25th anniversary of that performance is coming up in December, here in my home town. I can’t wait to see everyone again.
7. My high school has a terrific program, where the whole school took Wednesdays off to do community service. When I was a senior, I volunteered at the local YMCA to help older folks do their exercises, and spent the afternoons at a school for special needs kids, working with the mentally handicapped kids there. I learned so much from them, and still remember their names.
6. I used to be a caterer, working for local companies on the floor and in the back of the house, preparing and serving the food. One holiday season I worked every day from the end of November to the beginning of January, and served salmon for every event–sometimes, more than one event a day! By the time New Years Eve rolled around I was sick of salmon, and to this day have a hard time eating it.
5. One of the best nights of my life was meeting David Bowie after a small concert he gave in New York. He smelled like citrus and was such a kind gentleman. Everyone else was tongue tied, but since it was one of those ten minute meet, greet, get the photo, I figured I’d make polite conversation with him while the rest of the group stood around, gobsmacked. Which meant that, when it came time to take the photo, he selected me and my then-boyfriend to flank him. I gave him a piece of my pottery. I wonder what he did with it? It’s just a small little porcelain jar I love to throw. He must have given it to an assistant to do with what she would. Still… while he held it, he kept running his fingers over the surface of the pot. Like I said, a true gentleman.
4. Why doesn’t she sing anymore, you ask? Well, when I was in my early 20’s, I sang with a band in the city, doing live lounge before lounge was cool. I wasn’t even the lead. The band’s format was pretty fluid, and sometimes i sang harmony and counterpoint to the guitarist/band leader’s vocals, and sometimes I took the solo. I loved it… but even that tiny touch of fame freaked me out. One ‘fan’ followed me home, and for a few weeks thereafter, left me offerings of breakfast on my doorstep every day–bagels and coffee I never dared eat because I had no idea where it came from. Another ‘fan’ would come by my house around the time I would be leaving for a gig to see if I needed a ride. One particularly enterprising soul wrote poems to me on a champagne cork. Then there was the crazy poet who wandered the city in a cloak, writing odes to the singer in a little lounge band. I don’t think I sang a note for five years.
3. I lived in Dubai for two years. Well, in Dubai for one year and Sharjah for one year. I loved Sharjah, and am still struck with awful pangs of homesickness when I think of it. I made friends with two of the loveliest women I’ve ever met, who were so kind and warm and loving, they are my sisterfriends. I hope some day we’ll be able to meet again, perhaps in Morocco, where an American isn’t too unsafe and a Muslim woman can dress and behave with the modesty she requires.
2. My son happened to me and turned my whole life upside down. In a good way. He teaches me every day about what it means to be alive, and although I’m never going to be a good enough mom, I try my damnedest to do what’s right by him and lay down the foundations for a wonderful life. He’s the most incredible creature, and I always tell him how lucky I am to have him for a son.
1. The end of my marriage was not the end of my life. It made me reach down deep into myself for resources and reserves of strength I didn’t know I possessed. Every day I’m a little wiser, a little stronger, a little kinder. And even on the worst of days, we’re still happier, healthier, and better off than we had been before the split.
