There are some things in this world I’m sure I will never learn, let alone master. After all, with age you are supposed to come to the realization that you can’t do certain things with ease or grace. For example, I now know I can’t draw a person on a piece of paper without it looking like a reindeer. I know I can’t play any musical instrument—well, okay, I do play a mean pie tin with two kitchen knives (after a couple of beers). I’ve been told I dance like an ostrich with an orthopedic problem. I have never been able to shoot a bow and arrow and hit anything but the ground. I’m fully aware that I’m not an accomplished carpenter, electrician or plumber. Let’s face it, if it can’t be fixed with Duct Tape it stays broken til I can get a neighbor to stop by.
Now, I have to admit to something I did in a moment of weakness. You’d think a person of normal intelligence would have learned from being in the Marine Corps that you NEVER, I mean NEVER volunteer for anything. Well, I fell prey to a very persuasive and spunky choir director—it didn’t hurt that she was really good looking. Yes, I volunteered to become a member of the base section of the men’s church choir. Let me say right up front—I do not read or understand a note of music. I don’t know a sharp from a smooth or a flat from a round. A pause to me means a ten minute break. A staff is what a shepherd uses and a tenor is half a $20. This lovely female choir director told me that this was strictly a twenty-four hour singing project. Heck, I can fake anything for twenty-four hours.
I got to our one and only practice Saturday morning and was told in a very clever and cunning way, “Welcome to our new men’s choir. You all are now charter members of this ongoing men’s choral group. After we sang the first verse, the men who were standing around me said such things as, “You certainly have a…..a…distinctive voice.” Did you ever sing in a choir before?” These comments didn’t really bother me because I figured they were just joking around. However, I started to wonder when one guy said, “Bet your wife can sing.” The man in front of me asked, “Aren’t you usually an usher?”
This one dear sweet man came to my rescue just in time. His name was Warren. He said in a very kind voice, “Cazzy, see those small round black dots? They are the notes we are supposed to be singing. I quickly changed places with another bass member so I could stand next to Warren. Actually, I wasn’t just standing next to Warren, I was leaning against him so that I could hear every note he sang. In no time I was following every sound he made—just one tenth of a second behind him. This way, if we sang the same song every Sunday, heck in a couple years I’d have it down pat. Come to think of it—maybe my God given talent is ushering.
P.S. Church Bulletin Gems:
* A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening. Music will follow.
* At the evening service tonight the sermon topic will be “What is hell?” Come early and listen to our church choir practice.
* Weight Watchers meet at 7pm. Please use the large double doors at the south entrance.