forget turning into my mother

I’m turning into my sister.

What with returning to work and all, I’m no longer attending Music Together classes with the Magpie. I don’t have the time, inclination or devotion to commit to a community choir but I need something more than singing in the car on the two or three days a week that I get to drive to work.

So, I’m stopping in to visit the woman who teaches our particular Music Together class, who also happens to teach voice.

Today, after singing brilliantly [if I do say so, myself] in the car with the couple of tunes I’m mucking about with, I showed up ready to do some serious work. As with anything, it’s good to start with a warm up. However, today’s warm up was to be different: she told me to sing the phrases we usually do, but she wasn’t going to play them.

Um…that’s not how it works, folks. Notes are good. I like notes. I need notes. So, needless to say, it didn’t work out well. Oh no, not well at all. And that just made me mad at myself because, really, these aren’t hard things. I’m just used to running through them quickly and apparently haven’t paid enough attention to get it without the piano.

And so, the rest of the lesson was rather shot. I mean, I got some stuff together and still got something out of it, but it was all rather start and stop and I lost my place, my timing and any sense of comfort with my ability to stay in tune. By the time it was over, I wanted a beer.

Or six.

And then I once again cursed my sister, to whom singing always came so easily. Then I stopped. Because I am certain that the look of general pissiness [at myself] that crossed my face earlier today was exactly the one she wore on the occasions that I tried to tutor her in math during high school. Each and every time, I could literally see her freeze up and shut down when she hit something she wasn’t able to do and, once that happened, there was no getting her out of it.

I must apologize to her the next time I speak with her. And try and learn to get over a momentary pitchy glitch and not assume that my whole day is vocally off because of it. But, in the mean time, if I have to turn into some family member, at least I’m heading in the younger direction.

One response to “forget turning into my mother

  1. Oh man! I’m like that, too… I can sing along fine when there are notes there for me, but take the background music away? AWFUL! Oh. My. Goodness. It gives me a new appreciation for the American Idol auditions. No music! So those who are good, are really, really good!

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