To the Boss:
OMG! After struggling to iron out the wrinkles of my gown, I can’t believe you wore your new/wrinkled 100% polyester choir robe fresh from the box! Eww! Dirty! The cane lady had a malfunctioning zipper and the old guy couldn’t find Size 48 (Qty 7). WTF?
Anyway, did I sing the descant “good” enough”? I kept inquiring of the “brutal audience” for their impressions but they simply shrugged their shoulders and replied in the neutral: “yeah”, “good”, “okay.” Whatever!
I was waiting/hoping Kathy/Rosemary would sing the descant. But as “predicted” or maybe I didn’t hear because of my bad hearing, I had to “step-in”. I’ve been practicing REALLY hard. [Squeak, squeak, squeak sounds of the bed springs!]
Though I practiced, for the harmony of one song, I got lost on one verse for a song. The loudness of the organ and singers and the distraction of standing up and trying to focus on your VERY helpful downbeats short-circuited my memory.
Seriously, I was aspirating from asthma-like symptoms, loosing my breath, can’t find my voice, and as expected had a difficult time finding notes to sing harmony. But memorizing song helps so when I look up to you, I’ll know the tempo.
The cane lady didn’t know the Cantor to yesterday’s Respond and Acclaim, which I couldn’t hear! I pronounced her first and last name and then mumbled under my breath that I didn’t know anyone in this god-damned place.
For the Saturday group, the brutal audience noticed that the adults were calm. The wife of the guitarist was fidgety and the powerhouse singer wouldn’t stop slamming her water bottle on the high stool. That kid won’t go anywhere with that attitude.
But I sent a “thought” to her to relax and she calmed down. The brutal audience noticed that she relaxed when I stood next to her. It’s okay if she screamed the Respond. I was out of tune for the second verse! Bahaha!
So after Saturday evening mass and during conversations with Maw many times in the past, I noticed how the Lawd Gawd blesses people with certain “gifts” but takes away something else precious.
For example, you are a dark-skinned monkey/fugly-ass dog. But your god-damned voice is so freaking beautiful! When you were first new, you appeared to be a nobody. But when you opened your pie hold and sang Ave Verum Corpus, I fell in love!
In another example, the Squirrel is VERY handsome. All people (disabled, fugly, divorced, psychos, whatever) loved him. But he has a flaring temper and doesn’t know how to administer his own finances, which the twit wifey handles.
So yeah, while the powerhouse singer and her Mom are freaking fugly, y’all are beautiful souls and blessed musicians. It would be interesting to work with her and see how she advances in her life/career. But I’m poor! Bahaha!
Unfortunately, I was disheartened to see how Ate Eme cringed and wiped both her hands in distaste after an old Filipino lady handed out her fragrant-smelling gardenia blooms.
I have no room for judging anyone anymore. I may rant on my blog but that’s about it. I keep smiling inside to ward off your high-brow, biased attitudes to less fortunate/trouble people.
Huh,
Flynn…
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