Singing

You know what?

I sing all the time. I always have. One of my first memories is of my Grandmother complaining to my mother that although I had a very nice singing voice, it was not appropriate for a 4 year old to since songs from the musical Hair. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t sing and read.

If I went to church, it was mostly because of the choir.

In elementary school, we had an amazing music teacher. Our choir made records. I was in a group that performed all over town. We did musical plays.

It was important to me, but I never really thought of myself as a musician because I don’t play an instrument well.

As an adult, I didn’t have an outlet for it. I sing in the car. At home. On walks. Any time no one else is in the house, I am singing, but not in an organized way. Aside from one bad experience, never with a band. I didn’t realize that I even missed it. A few weeks ago I sang with another friend but it was a little intimidating.

I had one very negative experience singing with a band as an adult, so I really shied away from singing in public.

Tonight a friend came over and we sang. He played his ukulele. I just sang. He figured out chords. I songbirded. For some reason I wasn’t a bit self conscious about it. We ate pizza and drank beer and sang some more.

I had the best time.

So…

I sing every day. Every day. Why did it feel so good to sing with Paddy?

There is just something about being able to sing and know that someone is hearing your voice. And it’s good. The feeling, I mean. My voice is fine, but the feeling I get from sharing my voice is something I didn’t even realize I had missed.

Thanks, Paddy.