Finding My Voice....

I watch all the talent shows on TV--American Idol, The Voice, America's Got Talent and the new one called Duets--and I hear these talented people talk about when they first started singing.  They say things like "When I was in high school I tried out for the choir and found out I really enjoyed singing" or "I've always loved music so I decided last year that I would give singing a shot" or "I go to karaoke with my friends all the time and just thought I'd try out for this and see how it goes."  I'd like to be able to say that I started singing whenever, but I can't.  It just didn't happen that way.  I didn't pick singing, it picked me.

To be honest, I don't really remember when I started singing.  I can't remember a time in my life when music and singing weren't a part of it.  I think back on my childhood years and try to remember something, anything that didn't involve music.  But those times just don't exist for me.  The majority of my most vivid memories center on music or singing in some way.  I remember things like taking my Mickey Mouse record player out onto our porch to play my newest 45 for my friends.  (Yes, a Mickey Mouse record player....the kind where Mickey's arm stuck out and the needle was on the tip of his finger.)  They listened to it for about the first 30 seconds or so, then decided to go play some other game.  I was only in first grade, but I couldn't understand why they weren't as excited about that record as I was.  

I remember that we always had a radio playing in the kitchen when I was about 8 years old.  Whenever some of our relatives would visit, Mom would let me keep the radio on as long as I played it low so the adults could talk.  My dad and uncle would always get into rather loud discussions about different topics.  I would press my ear flat against the speaker of the radio so that I could hear the songs that were playing.  Another memory is from about second grade.  The school I went to at the time would let the kids go outside to play for a while after lunch.  On rainy days, the kids would go to the gym where they could sit and talk.  There were always a couple of teachers on "lunch duty" and they would sit on chairs by the doors of the gym with a little record player between them and play 45 singles to keep the kids entertained.  I loved rainy days....I always made sure I got a seat right in front of the record player so I could hear the songs.  

There are so many more memories that span the years of my life....way too many to go into here.  So I can't really explain when or how I found my voice.  I've just always known it was there and that it was a special part of me.  That's why I get caught up in these shows.  There are so many great singers in the world....millions.  But every now and then someone stands out from the crowd.  Every now and then I hear someone sing and I get goosebumps.  That's when I know I've heard something extraordinary.  That's when I know the vocalist has reached down into their soul and brought out the deepest part of themselves....a part of themselves that even they didn't know existed until that moment.  You can actually see it happen as you watch and listen.  It's the most amazing feeling, both for the listener and the singer.  It means that they have truly found their voice.  

It doesn't have to be a singer, it can be anyone doing something they love to do.  When they are in their element....when they are where they feel they were meant to be doing what they know in their hearts they were meant to do....that's when it happens.  Once you experience that, you're never the same.  You can never go back to being just another ordinary person.  You have to keep doing whatever it is that gives you that feeling.  You can't help but be happy, and that happiness spills out to everyone you come in contact with.  

So look for it....that special feeling, your "calling" so to speak.  Open yourself up to it.  Don't be afraid, don't close your heart off and hide.  There's no law that says you have to go with the flow and follow the herd.  Fight against the current and follow your own path....and find your voice.  You know who you are....you've always known. 

The Business of Songwriting....

I write....a lot. I write poems, I write stories and I write songs....or at least I thought I did, until recently.

I've learned a lot in the last year and a half, including the fact that the pieces I have written could be songs, if I reworked them. They're just a bit on the wordy side. Being someone who is good with words makes rewriting easier for me than for most folks, but it can be vexing at times. When I'm writing a story or essay I can choose how I want to say things because I have time on my side. I have several paragraphs or even pages to express myself. I can make a point and then go into detail about it, give different examples and differing points of view and then drawn a conclusion. It's a bit more trying when writing a poem, because you only have a few stanzas to use (depending on what style of poetry you're using) and then there's that whole rhyming thing to contend with. But still you have some time and space to work with if you feel the desire to elaborate a bit. But a song? Now that's an entirely different animal.

Most songs are somewhere between three and five minutes in length. Three to five minutes....that's not much time, especially if you're telling a story or trying to make an important point. Go ahead, try it. Set a timer for 3 minutes, pick a topic and start talking. I bet you don't get much said before the time runs out. You can give yourself the full 5 minutes if you like, but you still won't finish your speech. Unless, of course, you know what you're going to say before you start talking. It takes a lot of thought and "word sense" to be able to write a lyric. You have to be able to get your point across in very short sentences that, most of the time, rhyme with one another. You also have to make sure you stay on topic....there's not a lot of time to meander around in a three-minute song. You have to get right to it so people will know what you're singing about, how you feel, what you're gonna do about it, and how it all turns out. I've heard it said that if you haven't gotten their attention in the first 30 seconds of the song, they'll change the station--"they" being the public a.k.a. your audience.

There are a lot of tricks to learn along the way, too. First things first, buy a dictionary and a thesaurus and learn how to use them. You should also get a good rhyming dictionary so you can find some interesting rhymes to use instead of writing "moon, June, spoon" songs. Next, buy yourself some good pens and pencils and extra erasers and lots of paper, notebooks, note pads, etc., and place them everywhere around the house. Yes, you can use your computer, but you can't always take it with you. A small notepad with a pen or pencil can be put in a purse or pocket or even in the glove compartment or your car, just in case an idea for a song strikes you at an odd moment--trust me, it will happen. Not to mention the fact that you can't accidentally delete a notebook from existence.

Next, find a place to write....a place where you can be left alone and have peace and quite. Yes, you can write while you're cooking dinner or during your lunch hour at work or while watching a movie in your living room or while watching the kids on the playground. As a matter of fact, those are some great places to get song ideas. But later, when you want to put the finishing touches on that lyric or when you want to write about a specific topic that you really need to think about or if you want to write about something private, you're going to want a place where you can be alone without any distractions. Also, make sure you have a filing system of some kind for your papers so you have a place for them when you're not writing.

When you finally do sit down to write, you'll find that it's not as easy as it seems. Most people think that a song lyric and a poem are one and the same....nope. Ask any professional songwriter and they'll tell you, "A song lyric is a song lyric and a poem is a poem." Yes, there are song lyrics that started out as poems and poems that have been set to music, but in general, they are two different things.

OK, so you're sitting in your little private space all alone with lots of peace and quite, notebook in front of you, pens at the ready, pencils sharpened, erasers lined up neatly, your dictionary, thesaurus and rhyming dictionary within reach on the book shelf above the desk, a few great ideas in your head....you are ready to write a hit song! Now all you need to do is....

Decide what form you are going to use, what your point of view is, focus on where, when, what, who, why, and how, and figure out how to be specific and still make it universal to everyone. Now you have to rewrite it....even the most prolific and successful songwriters rewrite. Almost no song is recorded as a first draft. You can always make it better. Once you've got the lyric all worked out, you need to identify the emotion of the song, what the mood of the music should be. This is obviously easier if you read music--I do not, so I have to rely on other composers to write it for me. They in turn have to rely on my description of what the lyric is about and what I see as the mood of the song.

Another important thing to remember when you write a song is who will be singing it. As with writing the music, this is easier if you are the singer--which I am. But the majority of songwriters aren't the singers of their own songs. You have to remember that the singer has to be able to relate to the song....the singer becomes the song.

But I think the biggest hurdle to get over when writing songs is the same hurdle you'll find in just about any creative process--pride. Everyone has it and no one wants to really admit to it. Criticism is hard to take in general, even if it's constructive. But when it's criticism about something you created yourself, something you put your heart and soul into....it hits harder and it stings a bit more. No one wants to hear that their creations aren't good enough. But if you're going to be a professional songwriter, you have to learn to filter out the mean stuff and listen to the rest. Surround yourself not with people who will tell you how great you are and how everything you write is perfect, but with people who will be honest with you. I have found a few really great people that I have been writing with--composers and lyricists--and their opinions are very valuable to me. What they say isn't meant in a mean way and I know they are giving me advice about how to make my songs the best they can be....and it's always my decision whether to use the advise or not. I can take their constructive criticism because it's for the good of the song. That's what really matters.

I want to write songs that will speak to others when I can't....songs that will help people express their feelings and say things they can't find the words to say themselves....songs that make people feel something and remind you that you're still alive. Real feelings that real people can relate to....that's what I want from my songs, and that's what I hope you will hear when you listen to them.

Tryin' To Get The Feeling Again....

So I stopped....I had to. Okay, I didn't have to....I could just keep going and going and going until I fall over from exhaustion. It really wouldn't have bothered me because I love to sing. I could do it every minute of every day of my life. Which is why I had to stop, at least for a few days. Let me explain....

I sing because I have to--yes, I have to, just like breathing. It's involuntary. At least 70% of the time when I am singing, I don't even realize I'm doing it. I'm not talking about when I'm on stage....obviously if I'm on stage in front of an audience with a mic in my hand, I am aware that I am singing. I'm talking about all those times when I'm just doing regular stuff--washing dishes, shopping, driving, surfing the internet, watching TV (I tend to sing along with the commercial jingles), taking a shower (yes, I sing in the shower....my secret is out).

I actually caught myself singing once when I was window shopping at some antique stores several years ago. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but that event stands out for me because of what I was singing. As I stood in front of a very reflective storefront window, I saw myself dancing along to the tune that kept repeating in my head. About halfway through one of the many refrains of the song, I stopped and looked at my reflection and thought "Oh my God!" I immediately looked around to see if anyone was watching--not that it would have mattered. I had been singing the same song over and over for the better part of half an hour--OUT LOUD--as other pedestrians were passing by. I know, I know, you want to know what song could have been so embarrassing. I was singing "I'm a Little Teapot" AND doing the little dance that goes with it. You know the one--"Here is my handle, here is my spout"...."Just tip me over, pour me out"--yep, that's the one. I was somewhere in my mid-twenties at the time and this happened in the middle of a weekday when there were plenty of cars driving by in addition to the pedestrians. I never realized I was singing it until I saw my reflection "tip over". That's my point....singing is such a natural action for me that I don't even know I'm doing it half the time and, when it's a conscious action, many times I'm not paying attention to what song I'm singing.
Because of this fact, I don't see singing as work. This is a true statement for anyone who is doing something they love for a living. If you ask them, they will say it doesn't feel like work to them.

But it started feeling like work....like a job. That's why I knew I had to stop. I felt it happening, but tried to ignore it and lie to myself about it (which is really impossible for me to do). I was forgetting lyrics and becoming very critical of myself and my performances. I was actually getting to the point where I just didn't even want to hear the songs. I wasn't enjoying it....and I always enjoy it....ALWAYS. I get such a high from performing and I just wasn't feeling it. It was becoming something I had to do for others instead of something I wanted to do for myself. I got an email a few days ago. It said this....

"If you're doing something for someone else's approval, you may as well not do it at all. There is only one reason to do anything: to announce and declare, express and fulfill, become and experience Who You Really Are. Do what you do, therefore, for the sheer joy of it, for sheer joy is who you are. Do what you choose, not what someone else chooses for you."

That's it in a nutshell. It stopped being about the music and began to be about what others would think of my performance. The joy was gone....and I knew I had to get it back or it just wasn't going to work. I won't bore you with all the details of my school years and young adult life. Suffice it to say that I spent a good many of those years trying to win the approval of others (and never getting it most of the time). I try like hell not to do that anymore, but every now and then that insecurity finds a crack in my armor and sneaks through. That's when I have to walk away from it--the insecurity, not the music--and revisit the truth in my soul. That's when I have to find my joy again....when I have to remind myself why I do what I do....

To announce and declare, express and fulfill, become and experience Who I Really Am.

We Dreamers Have Our Ways....

There are people who have called me a dreamer. I guess they thought they were putting me down and making me feel bad. But the truth is just the opposite. I loved being called a dreamer....I still do. I consider it a compliment. It confirms for me that I have more bravery than I thought I had and that I have more courage than the person attempting to bring me down. I know when they call me that, they are implying that I'm lazy or that I don't live in the "real" world. But what they don't seem to be able to understand is that this is the real world for me. I am right where I want to be and have no desire to change. Everyone has to determine for themselves what their truth is....no one can tell them because no one else knows. Your truth is what comes from deep within you, and no matter how much you try to deny it, it will always be there. You can ignore it, you can make excuses, but it will always be there....always.

It's really an amazing experience to be on a stage singing for an audience. To speak into the microphone and have them respond. That sounds like a very simple and rather dull action, but you have to understand where I am coming from with this. You see, I have never been one of those people who stand out in a crowd. I was always the shy kid in the corner, the wallflower. I was the one who was always picked last for a team in gym class....one of those who went to school dances alone, and if I was lucky enough to get asked to dance, it was usually with one of the other misfits in the crowd who also came alone. Remember that Christmas story about Rudolph and how he went to the Island of Misfit Toys? Well, let's just say I would have fit right in on that island. But that's okay, I'm not complaining. I think I would have really enjoyed it there.

Not too many of the "popular" people paid a whole lot of attention to me as I was growing up. To be truthful, they still don't. I don't attract a lot of attention just by walking into a room. I have even had people ask me a question and then walk away and start a new conversation with other people while I was answering them. I will admit that this does miff me a little simply because it's rude, and I have never liked rudeness. But I still don't let it bother me too much, because now that I am older I am not as concerned about fitting into their world as I used to be.

Anyway, I have never attracted a lot of attention by just being present. Then one night a good friend handed me a microphone and I sang a song. All of a sudden people were coming up to me and complimenting me. They were making it a point to stop and say hello. They were actually asking me to sing and telling me that the only reason they came out was because they were hoping I would be there. They actually wanted to know me. Was it a boost to my ego? Um....yeah....but I still had a difficult time with it for a while. After a lifetime of blending into the woodwork, it was kind of hard to believe people really gave a damn whether I showed up or not. I was still the same person I had always been, just with one exception. They could hear me.

That was the difference. It didn't matter that I could carry a tune. After all, a lot of folks can sing, and many of them have much clearer, stronger voices than mine. The difference is that I let them hear me sing. I gave them a reason to pay attention....shook them up a little....you could even say that I "rocked their world". After a while, I started pulling out songs that no one would ever expect me to sing, let alone sing well. It was fun just to see if I could get a rise out of the crowd.

One of my favorite experiences is when I am at a place where they don't know me. I have a cousin who plays guitar in a local band and we went to see them play one night. During their set he invited me up on stage to sing a song with them. I was very nervous, but everyone encouraged me to do it so up on the stage I went. They began playing the song--"Your Cheatin' Heart"--and he began singing and after the first line I joined in. In the distance was a bar with some folks drinking and talking and generally not paying too much attention to our little crowd....at least they weren't at first. As I started singing, I saw several of the bar patrons stop in the middle of their conversations, put down their beers and turn around on their stools to look at the stage. Something there had caught their attention, and that's where their attention stayed until we were finished singing. Then they applauded (loudly), and just as easily turned back to their drinks and conversations as if nothing had happened. Now I could have seen that as rudeness, but instead I saw it for what it was. It's a little thing I like to call the "Gotcha Factor".

They may not have even noticed the band on the stage playing their hearts out for an hour before I sang, and they may not have cared much about them after I finished, but for that two and a half minutes, they were mine. It was as if when I started singing I was baiting their interest--like a fisherman baiting his hook--when they turned to see what was going on, they were hooked, just like the fish who couldn't resist the bait. When I saw them turn around and pay attention, I smiled and thought, "Gotcha!". That's the "Gotcha Factor"--when you look into someone's eyes and know you have captured their complete attention. You've managed to get past their ears and their brains....you've taken hold of something deep in them that they just can't ignore. Let me tell you, that's an ego boost!

There's another side of the "Gotcha Factor", too--something I like to call the "Oh, wow....". It's that moment when you realized that you have touched someone's heart--or even reached a part of their soul--with just the words of a song. I had this experience a few years back when I performed in a Mother's Day program at a friend's church. I had decided to sing a song called "Eagle When She Flies" by Dolly Parton, in honor of my Mom, who passed in 1992. I was extremely nervous, so I told my cousin and my husband to please sit up in one of the front rows of pews so if I started to freak out I could look over at them for moral support. I began singing my song and felt okay, but about halfway through my nerves started acting up. I looked over to my two-person cheering section for strength, only to find the two of them sitting there with tears streaming down their faces. My first thought was "Oh crap, they're crying!"....my second thought was "Oh wow, they're crying!" I managed to finish the song, but I have never forgotten how it felt to know that I had touched their hearts and helped them express their feelings.

There are always two sides to every coin. The first makes you feel larger than life....but the other humbles you to the core. I consider them both to be a blessing.

Life On the Road....

A friend of mine recently said that touring was a "young person's gig". I just couldn't imagine how or why he would even think about giving up traveling around the world and singing for the throngs of folks that come to his shows. To have a "job" like that would be absolute Heaven for me, and I know I would never be able to just stop doing it could turkey.

Well, I got an ever so slight taste of "life on the road" last weekend. I had to travel out of town to play a friend's wedding reception. Granted, it was only about an hour's drive away, but "on the road" is "on the road", and away from home is away from home. So away we went, with our over night bags packed with three days worth of clothes, a small cooler packed with sodas, bottled water, lunch meat, Swiss cheese and fruit cups, and my poor over-worked Tracker packed to the gills with sound equipment and lights. If there was a crevice left unfilled in that vehicle, it was purely by accident. It would be a fun little road trip where we could get away from our everyday world and make a little cash to boot.

We stayed at the Days Inn just off the exit from the interstate and checked into room 315. When we got to the room, we were very please to find that not only had the hotel staff turned on the AC for us which made the room cool and comfy, but it was also equipped with a microwave and mini-fridge (had I known this ahead of time, I would have rethought the cooler menu). At any rate, it was just great to take our shoes off and relax for an hour.

After freshening up from our drive and packing our goodies into the fridge, we decided to take a drive around to see what there was to see, and maybe even figure out where the Fraternal Order of Eagles building was that would house the wedding reception. It was a smaller city, so it shouldn't be too difficult. During the hour or so that we traveled around we managed to find just about every animal that a fraternal order could be named after--elk, moose--we even found the local V.F.W. Eventually we found the Eagles building which was located on Wheeling Avenue (quite a coincidence since we're from Wheeling, WV), and then headed back to the hotel for showers and a delicacy dinner of sandwiches, chips and sodas, and some much deserved sleep (yeah, right).

On Saturday morning, my eyes popped open at 7:30 am. Considering that they didn't official close until about 2-ish that same morning, this was not necessarily a good thing. I decided since I was awake-kinda-I would take advantage of this early start. I showered and headed down to the lobby for the free continental breakfast. Grabbing a tray, I filled it with two of everything that looked good and headed back to the room (this is where a background in waiting tables actually came in handy). Fruit Loops never tasted so good.

We had planned on meeting the bride for breakfast at Denny's at 11 am. Amazingly, we were on time (I've been practicing) and when she arrived, we ordered. For some reason, my stomach didn't want anything except chicken noodle soup and crackers, so that was it. We organized a few last-minute details and away they flew to the salon and away we went to set up. About an hour and a half later, we were operational. I turned on the lights and put on some music so I could check the levels from around the room and make sure everything was positioned correctly. It all seemed good and we had a few minutes, so I played a couple more songs just for our own enjoyment. I must admit, it looked and sounded fantastic. I love my "toys".

Realizing that my stomach had decided it was hungry again, we headed off to eat and change, and picked up a few things at the local Big Lots store along the way. We got back to the Eagles around 4:30 pm and began putting the finishing touches on our setup. I was standing behind the table on the raised center portion of the stage working on some of the wiring and I stepped backward to have a better look. Unfortunately, the part of the stage I was stepping back onto was about 6 inches lower than the one I was on. By the time I realized it, I was falling, and with absolutely nothing and no one in close proximity, there was no way to stop myself. In about 3 seconds flat, I hit the lower section of the stage with a hard thud. The landing jolted the entire right side of my body--especially my knee--twisting my foot as I fell. I think the first words out of my mouth were "Son of a b**ch!" The bad news--I had banged up my knee again. The good news--no one saw me fall....not one person. I know, because I looked around to see if anyone was watching me (anytime we do something we feel stupid about, we check to see if anyone noticed. We all do it....it's a pride thing). The wedding was still in progress so none of the wedding party or their guests were there yet, and the only other people there were a bartender and a couple of catering folks. All were busy with their work and hadn't even noticed my sudden meeting with the floor. Good, I thought. I got up as quickly as I could, trying to "walk it off" and finished my setup just in time for the guests to start filing in. All went as planned and everyone had a great time. Soon we were packed up and back at the hotel in our nice little air-conditioned room. I had just enough energy to shower, which is when I noticed the ping pong ball-sized bubble of swelling on the front of my right knee. Well, that's not a good sign, I thought to myself. Funny, I had felt no pain at all during the entire show (it's amazing what an adrenaline rush can cure). Somehow I knew things would be different in the morning. After my shower I crawled into bed with my styrofoam box of left-overs and the TV remote, and managed to dose off somewhere between 2 and 3 am (that's normal for me).

On Sunday, we had a great breakfast at Denny's and then hit the road. We were home by 1 pm. Later that evening, I noticed that my ping pong ball bubble had diminished, and a small bruise had developed on the front of my knee. As the week went on, it became more painful and the bruise became larger until it is now about the size of my hand and is a lovely pale shade of yellow. No doctors needed, though. This isn't the first time I have had an intimate relationship with the floor, and I will eventually heal.

I do believe my friend was right. Life on the road probably is a "young person's gig", and I'm not as young as I once was. But then again, I am younger right now than I will ever be again. So, I guess I will pack it all into the Tracker next weekend and head off to the next show. What can I say? I love my job....

Ready To Take A Chance Again....

I quit my job.

That may sound trivial, but to me it’s pretty big. Having a steady job with a reliable income has always been an important part of my world. Having a roof over your head, making sure bills got paid, making sure basic needs were provided for--food, clothes, incidentals, education, health care--not to mention the extra things that come along from day to day. It still amazes me how I managed to accomplish what I did on such meager means. So to just wake up and decide that this is the day you are going to quit your job--your steady, secure, well-paying, benefit-providing, union-backed job--well, it just didn’t seem logical. But I had to make a decision to either stay with the secure job or take a chance and live the life I’ve always known I should be living. So, I quit my job.

I must admit, even a month later I still have moments when I think I should go back. Moments when I think if I go to my former employer and explain that I had a few weak days of temporary insanity, they would have pity on me and invite me back into the fold with full benefits and my seniority completely restored. But they are mere moments of anxiety that tend to pass quickly and I soon remember how lucky I am to have this chance to live my dream.

I really don’t miss the job at all. I do miss the people I worked with, and I miss the energetic pace of the job….I even miss some of the customers. As a matter of fact, some of them even unknowingly helped me to make the decision to quit. They unconsciously reminded me how short life is, how something as simple as a smile or a hug can mean the world to another, and how strong of a force love can be. They reminded me not to be too quick to judge someone just by the way they act or the way they look, and to always try to see what’s underneath the exterior. At times, after the drudgery of doing the same job day in and day out until I became numb from running on the treadmill of life, they even helped me to remember that I could feel things like happiness and heartache. I will always be thankful to them for that.

So here I am, home everyday, self-employed and making my own schedule. I take the jobs I choose to take, making all the decisions and learning as I go. I haven’t had this much free time in years, and I sometimes have no idea what to do with it. I’m sure that will change though. I don’t regret giving up the secure job. Most would think of it as financial suicide, but I don’t. It’s not the balance of my bank account that determines how successful and happy I am. The way I see it, if you are unhappy in your life, it doesn’t matter how much money you have. Some of the happiest times in my life happened when I was totally broke. The lessons I have learned while living are more valuable to me than any material item could ever be, and the people who have taught me those lessons--well, to me they are angels sent from above to guide me. So I will continue to follow this unpredictable path I have chosen for myself one step at a time, watching for clues from the angels along the way.

Sure I Can......

You know, sometimes my mouth talks before my brain realizes what it is about to say. It's at those times that I tend to get myself into trouble....or pretty damn close to it. Most of the time I manage to get things to work out to my advantage--don't ask me how--but there are also times when I get in over my head. I'm not sure which one of those this falls under, but I hope I end up with the advantage.

Last Monday I got a call from my contact at one of the places that I have been playing over the last few months. He offered me four new dates, one of which being a St. Patrick's Day party on March 13th, for which they will pay extra because it's a holiday party. I was ecstatic, to say the least. He told me they want all the bells and whistles for this one--music, lights, fog--everything. This all came about because during a previous conversation he mentioned that they had gone with another DJ for their Valentine's Day party because it's more of a formal party and this person had lights and fog and such. "I have all of that," I told him. "Oh, really?" he replied. "Oh, yeah," I told him. So a few days later he calls me with these new dates. Great! Fantastic! Woohoo!!

OK, here's the thing....

I haven't had the chance to use my lights much, mostly because the places I have played recently really don't have room for me to set them up....and I have never used the fog machine....never. Not only is it still in the box, but I haven't even broken the seal on the box. I figured I would get around to it eventually. Up until now, no one has asked about it. I figured at karaoke shows there really wasn't a need for it. Now I am feeling a little bit of anxiety about the whole situation. It's January and it's 12 degrees outside. When and where am I gonna have the opportunity to test out a fog machine without my neighbors thinking my house is ablaze and calling the fire department?? How much fog juice do I need? (Yes, fog juice.) I know of a couple of places where the DJ that was playing used a fog machine and it set off the fire alarm at the establishment they were playing at. Can you imagine??

Maybe....probably....I am getting myself all worked up over nothing. It's probably just a matter of pouring in the fog juice, plugging it in and turning the machine on. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it? The lights are probably going to be more difficult to figure out than the fog machine....probably. I really don't understand why I am freaking out over this anyway. The show isn't tomorrow, it's almost two months away. I should be able to figure all this out by then....right?

Sure I can....

I Found My Soul

There are moments in my life when I realize something for the first time. I mean really realize it. Things that I always thought I understood, or things that I always thought I knew about, but didn’t really know or understand. Oprah calls them “aha!” moments….it’s when that little light bulb goes off over your head and your eyes get wide. I always thought I understood what it was like to be in love….until I met that someone special. I always thought I understood the bond between a mother and her child….until I had a child of my own. I thought I knew what it felt like to have a broken heart….until I lost someone who meant the world to me. I also was under the impression that time heals all wounds. But as time went by, I also realized that broken hearts never really heal. Sometimes these lessons come quickly, and sometimes they take years to learn. But eventually we all come to the realization that things and people aren’t always what they appear to be.

Over the past few months, I have been experiencing something that I can only describe as a “fullness”. I guess you could compare it to how you feel after a satisfying meal, although it has nothing at all to do with food. I have recently been able to realize a small piece of my life-long dream of being a singer/entertainer. When I say “life-long”, that’s exactly what I mean. I have never wanted to do or be anything else in my life. I never dreamed about how many kids I would have or what my wedding would be like….who I would marry or what kind of house I wanted to live in. I dreamt about being on stage and singing songs….about traveling around the country on a tour bus from show to show….about dressing up in sequins and glitter and entertaining the crowds….about people telling me how much they love to hear me sing. Obviously, after a while I began to notice that my dreams about the future and my friend’s dreams were very different. Even though they were my best friends (and we are still close to this day), I could feel a divide between us that I don’t think they noticed. An invisible wall, you might say, that put me in a world of my own. It was always a place I loved to be, but a place that I was sure no one else cared about. Because of this, I usually felt alone and isolated, even in a crowd. I was never one to follow the majority, even though there were times I did just because I didn’t want to feel that loneliness. It’s hard to be an individual. I sometimes felt as if my dreams were too far-fetched and unattainable. That maybe I should be thinking about the kinds of things that other people my age were thinking about. But I just couldn’t shake that inner feeling that I was meant for something different, something unique….something other than marriage, children and a house with a white picket fence.

So over the last couple of years, I have been piecing together everything I need to be able to put on a show. Even though the “show” was usually in my living room in front of an imaginary audience, it was still satisfying to me. When I am singing I am happy, even if there’s no one around to hear it. I don’t do it for the recognition or the accolades, although it’s nice to get that kind of feedback. I do it because I can’t not do it. I have to sing. It’s like oxygen to me, I can’t survive without it. I started a little fledgling music company that provides all sorts of entertainment--DJ, karaoke, background music, MC services, live vocalists for weddings--and I had business cards made up. I have been passing them out to anyone who will take one, and gave bunches of them to a few friends and family members who are passing them out as well. One of my cousins put me in touch with a lady who had recently acquired a bar where we all went for karaoke over the last few years, and she offered me a gig at the end of August to do one night of karaoke. We just finished a second show last Friday and have two more scheduled for the end of October.

Being in front of that audience as the host of my own show has changed my life. I knew I wanted to sing. I knew I wanted my own show. But I had forgotten just how much I wanted those things. It’s not the same as being in the audience waiting to sing. This time I am in control. This is my show. People are looking to me to entertain them. Knowing that everything hinges on my next move or my next word….seeing all those faces looking up at me expectantly….waiting for me to take them out of their everyday lives for a few hours….me….I suddenly felt “full”. It’s a rush I’ve never felt before. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as if it’s going to burst out at any moment. I can feel a happiness in me that I haven’t felt for a very, very long time. I have found my soul and I feel alive again. Suddenly, I’m in the spotlight. I have no idea where the future may lead me, but one thing is for sure….I can never go back to where I was before this.

The Fans....

Yes, I have them. We all do in one form or another. We just don’t classify them as “fans” in most aspects of our lives. Some of us have one or two, others have hundreds, thousands….even millions. They can be anyone--relatives, friends, neighbors, co-workers, business associates, children, teachers, even total strangers. But they are, for the most part, the same type of people. They are the folks in our lives who believe in us, admire us for our different attributes or talents, desire to be like us in some way, and usually are extremely supportive of us in whatever we are trying to accomplish in our lives. They are the first ones to cheer for us and the first ones to defend us against any “bad press” that may come our way. They are the ones who show up at every event and every appearance, however big or small it may be. They are the ones who always light up when they see us enter the room. They are the ones who tell us how much we have changed their lives for the better, just by existing….that we have saved them in some phenomenal way….and that without us, they probably wouldn’t be here now.

That’s a lot for one person to grasp. Having someone--especially someone you’ve never met--tell you that you are the reason they are alive today, is enough to shake anyone to the very core of their being. Most of us never realize how many people we touch over the course of our lives. We have no idea how we have helped a fellow human being, or what damage we may have left behind. We don’t usually take the time to think about how our words and actions affect other people. But everyone, whether intentional or not, leaves a lasting impression in the minds of others and an indelible mark on the world we live in.

I remember the first time that I realized someone recognized me. I was in a department store and just walking up and down the aisles looking at things when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that there were two women a few feet away from me that were staring in my direction and pointing at me. They seemed to be having a small disagreement as to whether I was the person they thought I might be. I glanced around to see if there may be someone else that they could possibly be referring to, but I was alone in that area of the store. I must admit that I was a little freaked out. Granted, there were only two of them, but I had never experienced this kind of thing. I was extremely used to being someone no one noticed. As I tried desperately to act like I unaware of their stares, they tentatively walked over to me and asked me if I was the one they heard singing the other night at one of the local places. I said that I was and they smiled and one said to the other “See, I told you!”. Then they proceeded to tell me how much they liked it when I sang and what a great voice I have, and will I be singing there or anywhere else in the future, etc., etc., etc.… I can’t remember how many times I said “Thank you” during that 5-10 minute conversation….but I can tell you that I was blown away by the way they were fawning over me. After they left, I went back to perusing the shelves of merchandise, but I couldn’t really focus on anything in particular. I just kept thinking about these two ladies telling me how much they admired me and my singing. I stood there alone smiling and realized that I had just had my first “fan encounter”. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time….much like bungee jumping, I would imagine.

I’ve had many more “fan encounters” since then, and it never seems to get old. I mean, who doesn’t like to be admired and complimented? There are always times when I really don’t want to be bothered or times when I just don’t feel well or I’m exhausted and want to go home and go straight to bed. But all it takes is one person coming up and telling me how they love it when I sing, or how they came that night hoping I would be there, to get me perked up again….and no matter how tired or cranky or sick I am feeling, I’ll still sing “just one more” for “my fans”. I do it because they want to hear it, and because of the charge it gives me to see them enjoying it. I guess that makes me a fan of “my fans”. What an interesting concept….

Lessons Learned

We worked our first paying gig night before last. It was a karaoke show at a local bar called the 29th Street Bar and Grill. The manager, Ranell, is looking for new people to replace the one who was working there. Apparently, this woman had a bad attitude and faulty equipment and was actually driving customers away instead of pulling them in. Obviously, something had to change. I had given her our info a few months ago, so she contacted me and we made the arrangements. We had to wait until the end of the month because she had already booked other entertainment for the weeks prior to that. I was OK with that, though. I just wanted a chance to get out there and present myself and my talent to the public.

I would like to say that everything went off without a hitch, but in my world that never happens. There were several things that occurred that I can improve on, but that's all part of the process.


Lesson #1: Be Prepared

I have spent the last month or so trying to get everything ready so that on the day of the show we weren't running around like crazy trying to finish things. Of course, there's always one or two things that just don't seem to get done until the last minute. I had one person printing something out for me while the rest of us loaded the equipment. Somehow we managed to get everything in the car except for the TV (which, by the way, is an essential piece of equipment for a karaoke show). We have a Plymouth Neon, so I was actually amazed by this feat. Unfortunately, a second trip had to be made to retrieve the TV, and that slowed things down just a bit. But somehow we still managed to get the music started on time, even though the TV and my help arrived a few minutes late. They had an extra TV at the bar so we could still start on time.

Lesson #2: Be As Organized As Possible

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am not the most organized person in the world. I am not sure how, but I manage to find the things I need. I usually keep everything related to my music in one place so that I know where it is when I need it. I always seem to forget one or two things....like writing the directions down but forgetting to bring them with me, or leaving my keys on the table inside the locked house. Well, if you have CD's of music that are unmarked, it might be a good idea to bring along the book that lists the songs that are on those CD's. When playing the CD that I had marked "Line Dances", no one knew which track was which. The first track was played and everyone heard "Happy Birthday". (I put just random songs on that disc that didn't really go anywhere else.) I had to take a minute while someone sang to listen to the disc tracks and write down what songs they were. I also forgot to show my helpers how my discs were organized, so they had a little trouble finding some of the songs. Things like that always slow down the pace of the show. For this reason, I am developing a checklist for future events. I also forgot to bring a notebook to keep track of the singers.

Lesson #3: When In Doubt, Bring It

We weren't sure if we would need our TV or if the bar had extras for us to use. That (and the space issue) is why we didn't bring it. Also, they did provide tables for us to use, but they were small and a little wobbly. We really didn't have enough room for everything, especially since we had to use one of the three tables for the TV. I have my own tables that I purchased that I feel more comfortable using, so we will be bringing those along next time, too. One more thing I will not forget in the future is a small footstool. The stage was at least two feet high. Since I am only 5'3", it made for a big step. They brought the stool back with the TV, but until it arrived I spent about an hour climbing up and down (and almost falling off of) the stage.

Lesson #4: Pay Attention

It's real easy to make stupid mistakes when you are nervous, so you should always pay attention to what's going on around you and in front of you. During one person's song, I didn't pay attention to which disc was playing. When I started to put in the next person's song, I hit the wrong button and turned off the one that was running. I could have prevented the interruption by just taking a moment to look at the displays....after all, that's why they are there.

Lesson #5: Set Up Early

Being there an hour before showtime is not necessarily early, especially if you have no idea where the electrical outlets are located in the building. Three hours gives you more time....four is even better. It also gives you the opportunity to park as close to the front entrance as possible for loading/unloading purposes.

Lesson #6: Neatness Counts

I'm not talking about keeping your area clean, although that does kind of play into it. I'm talking about making packing and unpacking equipment easier. With all of this equipment comes many types of cables and cords and several small pieces that connect all the bigger pieces together. I have a couple of large backpack/duffle type bags to tote all this stuff around in, but while in the bags the cables tend to get tangled around each other somewhat. When we take them out, we have to spend a few minutes unraveling them....a very annoying process if you're running late. I am going to seek out a reusable way of keeping them separated while in the bags.


Even with all the little stalls and hang-ups we experienced, the manager commented that she loved our show and booked two more dates with us for the coming months (Sept. 25th and Oct. 23rd). I hope to have all of these kinks worked out by then. We are also looking into renting a small U-Haul trailer for the next shows to move all the equipment with. It's a minimal expense that will allow us to bring what we need for the shows. It's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

When I woke up Saturday, I was totally exhausted and my muscles ached from all the climbing and lifting. But I still felt good. Waiting tables makes me exhausted and achy, too, but I don't feel good about it the next day. I just feel exhausted and achy. I don't mind being tired and achy from doing what I love to do. I am really looking forward to what the future may bring me.

Let There Be Light

July was a very lucrative month at work, so about two weeks ago I went to the local music store that I have been dealing with and purchased the headset mic that I have had my eyes on for the last year or so. Then, a couple days ago I went back and paid off my lights. I must say, it’s the coolest thing. My living room looks and sounds like a night club. That may sound strange to most folks, but to me it’s extremely exciting. Every time I get a new piece of equipment, it’s like a child with a new toy. It’s like Christmas morning, seriously. I probably could have waited, but I really wanted to have the chance to try them out and find out how they work. We are doing a karaoke show at a local bar on August 28th and I want to be ready. I don’t want to do this half-ass, I want to be as professional as I can be. People can tell if you don’t know what you are doing. I had a college professor who said “You can teach a monkey to turn knobs and push buttons. The difference between you and the monkey is that you know WHY you are turning the knobs and pushing the buttons.“ I have been to many shows where it was obvious that the performers didn’t put a lot of thought behind what they were doing. They were unsure of how to talk to the audience, they had no idea of what to say in between songs, they didn’t make eye contact with the people in the audience, there was too much time or “dead air” between songs, they didn’t give any thought at all to their wardrobe (I hate paying a lot of money to see a show where the performer is wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt), and, one of my personal pet peeves, they introduce each song with “My next song is….”. Performing live isn’t the same as a chef in a restaurant making dinner for someone. If they don’t like what you cooked for them, you can always make them something else. But being on a stage live is a one-time deal. You either get it right or you don’t, and either way, you will leave a lasting impression on all in attendance. I want the impression I leave to be the best that it can be. Even if it’s just a karaoke show. Anyone can spin a disc and announce the name of the next singer. But what if it’s a slow night? What if there are only five singers? It’s hard to fill four hours with the same five people singing over and over, especially when most folks only have two or three songs in their repertoire. You have to know how to keep the crowd interested and make it a fun night. I remember a few years ago when I hosted a show for a friend. It was September and the show was at a marina at an outdoor bar on the banks of a river. It was a bit cold and it was drizzling now and then, and I think there might have been one person who wanted to sing. We spent the entire night singing songs ourselves. We had an audience of three or four people, maybe five. But, as they say, the show must go on. This show is no different, except that this time my name is on the product and how I present myself determines the reputation I leave behind. If you give the client a sub-standard product, then your reputation will be sub-standard. I’m a professional and I want my “product” to say that I'm a professional. A friend told me once, “Do what you can do”. So I have put everything I have into making it the best it can be….money, time, energy….whatever I can do. I may never get another chance to this, so I’m gonna do whatever I can to get it right the first time.

A Means To An End

I hate working in a restaurant. I absolutely hate it. The hours are long, the work is back-breaking and the customers are demanding and rude. Most nights I come home wearing and/or smelling like the entire menu. It’s really a surprise to me that stray cats don’t follow me home every night. So why do it? A means to an end….that’s what I call it. Right now it pays the bills and gives me the money to buy the things I need. I’m not talking about food and clothes, I’m talking about lights and music and speakers and microphones. I’m talking about business cards and advertising and a website. I’ve invested a lot of time, money and effort into getting started in music, and I know it’s going to take a lot more….a hell of a lot more, which means waiting on a hell of a lot more tables. Right now, that’s where the money is, but I still hate it. I’m grateful that I have it, but I still hate it. I’m not one of those people who lead a charmed life, but I know of people who do. It seems from the moment they were born the pieces of their lives just fell perfectly in place in the puzzle and a beautiful picture emerged, leaving them sitting pretty on top of the world. That has definitely not been the case for me. I realized early that nothing is going to come easy. I can get what I want, but I’m going to have to work my ass off for it. I have to work twice as hard as the next guy to convince people that I have the talent to do the job. I have to work twice as hard to convince them to at least give me a chance to prove myself, and it seems that I have to work at least three times as hard to convince others to look past what’s on the outside and see the real me on the inside. I used to be afraid of what they would think when they finally saw the real me, but I’m not anymore. It used to bother me when they doubted my abilities. Now it annoys me more than anything else. I know I have something that they don’t have. Something deep inside of my soul that I was born with. You can call it talent, you can call it ability, you can call it passion….you can call it whatever you want, but it’s there. I know it’s there because I can feel it stirring inside me, like a geyser trying to rise to the surface. It drives me and pushes me to do things that aren’t “normal” or “practical”….like giving away my coffee table so there would be enough clear floor space in my living room to dance. Anyway, I have to keep doing what I’m doing to get where I’m going. I’ll keep waiting tables and collecting tips. I may have to do everything piece by piece, but you have to start with baby steps….like they say, you have to learn to crawl before you learn to walk. Just do me (and all those other hard-working servers out there) a BIG favor….the next time you eat out at a restaurant where someone is trying to cater to your every little whim, make sure you recognize them for it. Leave a tip that shows them you appreciate the time and effort they’ve put into making your experience a pleasant and enjoyable one. Remember, there may be someone like me on the receiving end of that tip….someone who is working even harder to make their dreams come true.

One Voice

I can’t turn it off….I don’t know how. I’ve never known how. I look out the window and I can think of a hundred reasons to go out into the warm sunshine. I can think of so many things I could accomplish….all the things I could get done in one twenty-four hour period. I see cars as they pass through the intersection in front of my house. All kinds of people going in all different directions for all different reasons….most of them oblivious to the others. I should be out there doing things….going places….doing all those things that normal people do. I should, but I won’t. I won’t because something here is calling to me….calling with a voice that only my heart can hear….a voice that I have never been able to ignore. As I turn from the window, I know what is waiting for me. I know it’s only a matter of time before we are together again.

I walk silently to the other side of the room. Reaching over, I flip a switch on the back of the console. As the small windows light up, I feel a tingle pass through me. I push the power button on the board to my right. More lights glow. Opening the drawer, I insert a disc….as the drawer closes, I feel the console vibrate lightly and hear a whirring sound as the disc spins. In seconds, I see the numbers on the LED display. I choose a track and then look to the right as I adjust the controls on the board. Reaching up, I wrap my hand around the microphone and pull it from the stand. I push the button and the power light shines green. I tap lightly on the top and hear a low thump, thump. I feel a stirring in my soul as a smile spreads across my face in anticipation. As the music begins to pulsate through the speakers standing to each side of me, I inhale deeply and turn as my heart and soul are transported to a place deep in the recesses of my mind. A place I have always longed to be….a place where I feel I belong. The words of the song flow effortlessly from my lips. I have sung these words before and will no doubt sing them again. They are words that speak to me and inspire me. I stop singing and listen as the measures of an instrumental take over the middle of the song, then I start again just as effortlessly as before. As the song draws to an end, the music becomes quiet and subdued. I sing the last lines slowly with passion and longing. The heartbreak is inevitable. The music fades to silence as I close my eyes. Soon reality overtakes me and reminds me where I am….here, alone, in my living room. The voice calls to me again….more, it pleads, more….I give in to it as I choose another track and raise the microphone to my lips. Before I realize it, hours have passed and another day is gone.

Some may say I should have done something more constructive….others might say I wasted my time away dreaming….still others may call me foolish….and I guess to some extent, they may be right. But that one voice I hear calling to me tells me “it doesn’t matter what they think….it doesn’t matter what they say….it doesn’t even matter if they like you. It only matters what you think, what you say, and if YOU like you.” As I stand staring at the console, my one voice asks again, “more, please?” I change the disc, choose a new track and listen as the music begins again. Just like the voice that speaks to my heart, I can’t turn the music off. I hear it everywhere, begging me to sing along….it never leaves me….it never turns me away….it never lets me down. The thrills, the emotions, the excitement….they are always there waiting to be experienced, and I can never say no. This is my drug of choice. This is my passion….

On Stage

I've never felt more at home as I do when I am on a stage. It's like coming home from a long trip. You walk in the door of your house and think "It's good to be home". That's the feeling. I look out at the audience and just feel like I'm home. In my heart I feel that this is where I'm supposed to be. I have had many jobs in restaurants, offices, bakeries, department stores, gas stations, factories....none of them have ever meant as much to me as the times that I was on stage. It doesn't matter what stage or what city or what event or even if there was an audience. I just feel the most comfortable there.

When I walk into a theater or arena or any kind of show venue, I immediately get a picture in my mind of what it would look like from the stage with the house lights down and the spotlights shining. I can hear the crowd cheering and singing along. I can hear the music playing. I smile to myself as all of this passes through my mind. I know that I could just live in that room for the rest of my life and never leave. If I could, there would be a room just like a showroom in my house. Who knows, maybe I will have one someday.

We were asked to provide the music for my stepson's wedding this past weekend, so over the last month or so we have been piecing together a sound system. We purchased a sound board and a set of Yamaha speakers, speakers stands and cables, and new microphones and cables for them. All together we spent close to $1200, which isn't too bad. We got a couple of discounts here and there because we knew people who knew people, and we got a discount on the sound board because it was the last one they had and was the display model. But it's in mint condition, and works perfectly.

We set it up and it just blew me away. It was like a mini-concert. The place even had a mirror ball. The volume only has to be on the first or second notch, and it was loud enough to fill the room with music. I could have stayed and played for hours. I was having so much fun. It's really hard to describe that to people. It's not work, it's more like playing. I mean, just imagine if you were doing the thing that you love to do the most--fishing, flying, dancing, painting, singing, cooking, shopping--whatever it is that you really love to do. Now, imagine that not only do you get to do it, but that you were getting paid to do it. What an awesome job it would be. Well, I would do this for free.

And just to put icing on the cake, two of the couple's friends are interested in having me do their wedding receptions as well.

Sweet.

That's You?!

It's amazing....

I had a friend who opened a recording studio and to get people interested he held an open house. He let folks come in and try out the studio free of charge. Of course, I took advantage of the chance to record something in a real studio. I didn't have the money to pay for that type of thing then, and it was something that I had been dying to do. I recorded a few different songs. They all came out pretty good, but one of them is great.

Several months later I showed it to a woman at a talent agency (they really handled models more than anything else). She stuck it in the tape player and turned it on. She listened for a minute or so and then looked at me and said "That's you?". I said it was. She listened a bit more and then looked at me again. Then she said while pointing at the tape player and then at me, "That is you.". Again, I said it was. She turned the volume down some, crossed her arms, and said "Sing.". So I did, and she finally believed me. I was a little surprised by the whole thing. I didn't expect that when I played the tape for someone they wouldn't believe that it was me.

Just last night we played the recording for some new friends and they said the same thing...."That's You?!" Unbelievable. I guess I just don't look the part. I don't look like the people on the red carpet. I'm a real person. I guess everyone expects you to look a certain way if you have certain kinds of talent. Singers should look like this and artists should look like this and actors should look like that and athletes should look like that. There is so much stereotyping in this world that we just can't seem to accept people for who they are. This is one of the major snags I have hit over the years. But once they get to know me, they get over it quick.

My First Post

From as far back as I can remember, there has been music in my life, and I can remember that I have always wanted to be a part of it in some way. I can remember listening to the radio and playing records and tapes for hours on end. I remember my friends trying to get me to come outside when all I wanted to do was listen to music and sing. I remember sitting with my brother and his friends while they played their guitars. I remember watching every awards show on TV and listening to the weekly top 40 hit list to see who had the number 1 song that week. I remember watching American Bandstand, not to see what the dancers were wearing or to see who was dating who, but to see and hear the musical acts that were performing. I loved shows like Solid Gold, The Donny & Marie (Osmond) Show, Midnight Special, Don Kirshner's Rock Concert, Tony Orlando & Dawn, Sonny & Cher, The Captain & Tenille, Dean Martin....anything that was a variety show or was musical.

Everyone in my family was musical in some way or just loved music. My dad used to listen to the local country stations and took us to a couple of shows. I remember going to see people like Glen Campbell and Johnny Cash. My mom loved performers like The Platters, Nat King Cole, Patsy Cline, Patti Page, Brenda Lee, Johnny Mathis, Connie Francis, and Doris Day. My brother, on the other hand, was and still is a metalhead. He loves groups like Kiss, Dokken, Ratt, Poison, Led Zeppelin, Rush, and AC/DC. So I grew up around all kinds of music and I like some of all of it. My husband is into Motown and R&B, like the Spinners and the Temptations, and also into the comedy songs and parody songs of people like Weird Al, Rodney Carrington and Ray Stevens, and now that my son is a young adult (he's 25), I am hearing a lot of the new stuff that is on the radio. As with all the other types of music, some of it I like and some I don't. I have a cousin that sings, another one that sings in a band and plays guitar, and one of my uncles used to sing and was able to play harmonica and piano by ear. It's almost as if being musical was born in my blood.

There are things about some of the music I've heard over the years that really bothers me. I don't like it when songs seem to promote things like drug use or brutality. I never cared for the heavy metal songs where someone is just literally screaming and the band is playing the same four chords over and over for six solid minutes. (Don't throw tomatoes, there are some heavy metal songs I really like. Jaime's Crying by Van Halen is one of my favorites, and I love Beth and a few others by Kiss.) As a singer, I like to hear the lyrics of the song so I can join in. I also don't think the "n" word has any place in any kind of conversation. It was used originally to belittle and degrade people and even though it is used in casual conversation these days, it still has that connotation to it. I just don't like the word--never have, never will. But I don't believe in censorship. I would never say that someone else can't say what they want in their songs. I always have the option of not buying that artist's recordings if I don't like what I hear.

I think there are some really fantastic artists, groups and musicians out there, and tons of great music. They are writing new stuff and renewing the old stuff and most of it is fantastic. You just have to keep your ears and your mind open.