The push to become a famous author isn’t moving along as quickly as it might, so I have decided to start singing my way into people’s hearts instead, yo. I can’t actually sing all that well, but there may be ways around that. After all, there are millions of things in print that are worse than what I write, so maybe it works the same way with singing. As I see it, there are two entrees into the world of singing fame: American Idol and The Voice. American Idol would require me to get too close to that scary-ass Nicki Minaj, whoever she is. She has a speaking voice like the last rales of a roadkill platypus, but supposedly she sings. I don’t know. American Idol isn’t my best shot anyway because I’m at least thirty years too old to idolize. On The Voice, I can try to sneak in during the blind auditions, when the judges have their backs turned and won’t be able to see me at all. That’s my best side.
The most important rule in singing is that the shortest distance between two notes is to be avoided at all costs. The more notes you can jam in, the more points you get. I can’t sing like that, but it’s not mandatory, if you can instead demonstrate some kind of quirk. My quirk will be trying to cover every song using only three notes either side of middle C, since those are the only reliable notes I have.
I’m starting to construct my back story. This will be presented in a two-minute video before my performance, so it’s important to get it right. I don’t have a lot to work with. True, my parents are dead, but that just means I can’t say I want to win so I can buy my poor mama a house. I don’t have any diseases that I can get a doctor to agree I have. And there’s no one in my life who is depending on me. I’ve seen a man explain that he has to win the contest or else keep working for a moving company, like that’s the worst thing ever, and that’s too pathetic for this blue-collar girl. Recently a teenage contestant on The Voice admitted, through a brave, straight, white smile, that she had once suffered teasing for her crooked teeth. I know how awful that can be. I used to get it for having hairy legs and knee socks the year I missed the nylons memo. But that’s all she could come up with. She’s going to have to sing her fanny off to overcome that sorry back story.
Of course, I’ll have to practice. This week I’m going to work on the double fist-pump on the heart until it looks natural. Next week I’ll lean forward with the mike in one hand and the other arm stretched out behind me. Squinting is next, accompanied by the repetitive three-finger flutter on the mike hand, like a stuck butterfly. I’ll have to hire someone for makeup. And I’m going with cowboy boots and a tight skirt an inch below my ass. I’m going to have to check where that is now.
Then all that’s left is the song. The most important thing is to choose one that’s in my wheelhouse. So first off I’ll look up “wheelhouse,” and then try to locate mine, and see if there’s a song in it. Then I plan to give it my all. The goal is to be a-mazing. If you can’t be a-mazing you have no business trying, but fortunately it’s not a high bar. A-mazing is just a notch above crazy good, and there are no other superlatives beyond it. And there are several ways of being a-mazing. You can bring it, or you can own it, or you can leave it all out on the stage.
Finally, no matter the outcome, I must not veer off the correct expression of gratitude to the judges. Currently it is “thank you so much.” Not “very much,” not “I appreciate it,” not “thanks a lot.” Thank you so much.
Thank you so much.
"three notes either side of middle C"
I couldn't find middle C if it was torch lit and clearly labelled in the middle of an empty floor.
guess I won't be joining you on Idol any time soon.
I'm sure you'll do very well though.
Maybe you're one of those people who can only find middle C by aiming for F.
I am with River even though I cannot write that funny. Do we really need more singers???
Not really. If we could wedge in another Tom Waits I'd be happy.
And I will be able to say I knew you before you hit the big time. Nice gams, Murr. Just add fishnet stockings and you're good to go! 🙂
Fishnets! I believe I owned a pair of white fishnets in about 1966. To go under the garishly striped minidress.
That's a brilliant plan for attaining fame and fortune. When it's time to hire some backup dancers please let me know while I'm still able to bend over and shuffle a bit.
You're on the short list. (I'm on the short list too, but not for dancing or anything.)
You have hit every point of those shows that I roll my eyes over, and made me cry with laughing! And I'm with DJan – with fishnet stockings, and maybe gel-spiked hair – you would fit in on one of those shows like nobody's business 🙂 Thank you so much!
I've definitely done the gel-spiked hair before. Thank you so much.
I was dubious, since I knew where you were going with just the post title that showed up in my e-mail. But now that I've seen your outfit I'm betting on you. Add something of your going postal life to the back story and you're golden. (Did you know my son plays bari sax on several of Tom Wait's albums? You probably didn't. We're very big fans, too. I hope that I don't fall in love with you.)
What would be so very awful about that? Hmm?
You are totally rockin' the look! I'd vote for you, voice unheard.
Though I must admit I did a double-take toward the end of your post when my unreliable eyes substituted "whorehouse" for "wheelhouse". But I think "whorehouse" would make for a more interesting back story, don't you?
You do that too? Sometimes I see headlines that SO aren't there, but should be.
Nice legs, girl.
Thank you so much.
You've spent way too much time watching those shows—I'm concerned for your mental well-being. Please immediately find some Benny Hill or Monty Python videos and dose yourself liberally.
I just watched American Idol for research purposes. But I have to admit, I like The Voice. I wouldn't have believed it, either.
Hey, you cut your hair! Lookin' good!
Thank you so much.
"She has a speaking voice like the last rales of a roadkill platypus" is brilliant! This could become an Aussie expression, if you're willing to let us use it. It has the same feel as "flat out like a lizard drinking" only better.
Well, she DOES. You're welcome to it. Fact is, I don't even know what a dying platypus sounds like, but don't tell anyone.
Better start practicing your bootie tush.
Oh honey. If these death marches Dave and I go on don't do it for me, it shouldn't be done.
I am nonplused……
I hardly know WHAT to say about all this, except….would it help if you borrowed my Ukulele?
Oh my yes. That's the other big thing. The baby-doll voice with ukelele and three chords. Plink plink plinky plinky plink plink plink. I could make a fortune in TV advertising alone.
Excellent legs (as so many of us have noted). And I think that a dying platypus sounds plaintive. Mainly because their living voice has never been given its fifteen minutes of fame. Isn't it always the way – you look interesting and nobody cares what you sound like.
They do look interesting. Hey–do you have one? Is it something you might actually see, wandering about?
Very, very rarely. Quite recently I did a post about seeing two in the wild. And I am surprised you didn't hear my squeals of excitement.
Oh, was that you? I thought the sky was yipping.
You are definitely a-mazing. Love the hair (it suits you short) and the outfit. With the fishnets you could promote yourself as Murr the Retro Diva. You certainly have the legs for it (said she enviously). Also, you could get round the singing like the death throes of a raling platypus by RAPPING one of your posts from your book. I'd even watch The Voice for that!
The problem with my legs is they quit before they really get off the ground.
You got my vote as long as I don't have to watch the shows except the ones you are on. Ukraine has a couple of these. Ukraine's Got Talent and one other. They are awesome.
I would LOVE to see Ukraine's Got Talent.
I think you're a shoo in!
Whoa, if I'm a shoo-in I could just apply by mail and wait for the result. Excellent.
I'd vote for you, too. A person can do a lot with the notes around middle C.
Well, not a lot a lot. I could kill on a couple songs though.
Well, maybe if you got a tatoo in an unseemly place and volunteered to show it to the judges? But you are totally rockin' "the look" so far.
I can't seem to work up much enthusiasm for watching shows like Idol or The Voice. I like actual music too much.
I've said it before. If I'd ever gotten a tat, it would have been a salamander. And because I know what they like, it would have had to be somewhere in a dark, damp crevice.
Susan Boyle gave me hope. She is a year or two my senior, and now she is a huge singing star. My dream was always to be one of the backup singers. Wear a cute outfit, sing harmony, and sway a bit. I can do that. I know that one day, I will be at a concert, and there will be an emergency call for backup singers due to Charlene falling off those three inch heels and busting an ankle. And I? I will save the day, and be discovered, and Sir Paul will ask me to replace clumsy Charlene permanently.
Could you do it in a cage? We need to bring that back.
I think you need to play up the orphan bit on the backstory. Sympathy always increases your chances of winning. "Thank you so much" seems to have come into being right after "imporddant". I guess the language is evolving without me.
Okay, I won't hold you responsible for it!
I wasn't an orphan till I was 29. I don't think that counts.
Sure it does!I was orphaned at 55!
I admit I still think about them every day.
You look terrific (20 years younger) with you new haircut. No reason to be dowdy, especially, given your quick wit. Love it!
Thank you so much! I am rockin' the grey sideburns.
By the by: it is "uh-may-zing."
You're so right. Thank you so much.
Hi! I've come from Diane's blog and she's right! You're funny!!
Actually I've been saying "Thank you so much" for the longest time…ooops.
And I have no idea how Diane saw "whorehouse" instead of "wheelhouse"! teehee
Diane sees things. That's all there is to it. Hey, welcome! Hit the refresh button to see what I wrote about your uterus today. Well, my uterus.
I also came from Diane's blog and enjoyed your blog a great deal.
Thank you so much! 😉
I will be back.
Come back soon, diannnnnn! I've thrown in several months of this shit since this one.