I performed my first musical presentation in my Kindergarten Christmas pageant. I shouted out songs of Reindeer and Snowflakes and belted out some jolly “Ho-Ho-Ho’s.” I simply beamed when I got to shake the little jingle bells in time with the music because the teacher said I had real good rhythm. I was happily making melodies with my friends, and people listened. My heart sparkled when I heard their applause. I knew Music and I would become best friends.
In parochial grammar school, I always got “A’s” in music. The nun’s who taught me adored that I sang the church hymns with such boldness. They always seemed to put me up front so the priests could see me sing. I was never afraid to be heard. God certainly knew I was there.
On my ninth birthday, Mama and Daddy gave me a little electric organ piano. I couldn’t wait to come home from school each day so I could play it. I loved to test out new harmonics between the keys and my voice. I started to learn how to read music, but mostly I played by ear. I just needed to hear a song once, and I’d eventually plunk it out. Like Daddy, I was graced with an ear for music. I also discovered I could create simple harmonies by singing along side of my own voice into a tape recorder. Soon after, I enlisted the budding talents of my younger brother, and we started recording our own little duets.
As we grew, my brother and I began to sing together more and more. We loved rockin’ out to the songs of the early 70’s, which we played full blast from our little box radios tied onto the handlebars of our bikes. Free and uninhibited, we would sing at the top of our lungs while racing down the street until we were out of breath.
“Jeremiah was a bullfrog!
He was a good friend of mine.
I never understood a single word he said,
But I helped him a drinkin’ his wine,
And he always had some mighty fine wine,
singin’ Joy….. to the world,
All….the boys and girls!
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea,
Joy to you and me!”
Sometimes, we’d climb up the cherry trees and sing loudly in the wind, while swaying wildly to some psychedelic music playing on my clock radio, which sat out on my bedroom window ledge.
“Wild thing!
(duh-nuh…
duh-nuh-nuh-nuh…)
You make my heart sing!
(duh-nuh…
duh-nuh-nuh-nuh…)
You make everything - Groovy!
(duh-nuh-nuh-nuh…
bom-bom-bom…)
Wild thing!”
We sang to beat boredom on rainy days, and because we liked the harmonic sounds we could make together. But mostly, my brother and I sang together to escape the storms that had been growing between Mama and Daddy over the years.
Within a few months after my 10th birthday, my baby sister entered our world, while Daddy, sadly made his exit. Mama had seen enough of Daddy’s dark side of the moon and his Thunderbird Wine, and called it quits. While Mama and us kids fell on some dark and quiet times, my baby sister’s presence gradually brought sunshine and music back into our lives again. I soon discovered I could sing to my little sister just like Mama and Daddy used to sing to me, and it would bring us all joy. Occasionally, when she wasn’t too sad or tired, Mama would smile and chime in on the songs I now sang to my little sister of falling stars, choo-choo trains, and soldiers in the rain.
