The Wedding Singer

Lest you think I am now mature and refined, here's a little story from just a few weeks ago.

Some of you may know, I have this secret desire to be a lounge singer. I would love to sing in jazz clubs (never mind the fact I'm not a jazz singer). Last year I was making a track for one of my voice students. She was in a pageant and needed an accompaniment track for her song. I went to the accompanists house to help make the track. He need tempo markings, cuts, and so forth. Anyway, Steve, the piano guy is really awesome. I mean REALLY. He has played and written things for TV. He lives in the Tri-Cities and commutes to L.A. Anyway, we're making this track and he keeps telling me he really likes my voice. He said I'm good and he'd like to work with me sometime. Total ego trip, right. He told me to call him sometime. I thought he was just being nice, and went on my merry way. I forgot that he ever said anything really.

Fast forward a year. The pageant girl's older sister, who was also a student of mine, is getting married. A day before the wedding they call and ask me if I will sing at the reception. I of course say yes, and get looking through my books for some good wedding numbers. Steve, the pianist above, is going to be playing.

I get to the reception, Stephanie in tow, she happened to be in town for the weekend. We go through the line, and then I go to do my thing. This wedding is probably one of the most beautiful setups I've ever seen. The reception is in the family's backyard. They live in this BEAUTIFUL home right on the river and it's sunset. They have a huge white tent with chandeliers in them. The tables and chairs are in the tent. There is this amazing spread of food. Just past the end of the big tent is the music station. I walk up to Steve and re-introduce myself. He actually remembers me, or at least pretends to. I sing "The Man I Love" and then opt to sing "Unforgettable." I've only sung it a hundred times. Steve starts playing the intro. and all my dreams of being a lounge singer come to life until...I realize it's time for me to come in and I haven't a clue what note to sing. You see, Steve is a jazz musician, which means he's not playing the melody in any way shape or form. I decide to guess and hope for the best....I guessed wrong....REALLY wrong. I sing the first phrase, take the mic away from my mouth and apologize. He plays a few notes of the melody and I'm on my way. The second phrase starts and again, I can't find my note. This is my singing worst nightmare. Finally, Steve starts playing every note with me. How humiliating. That is like the ultimate insult to a good singer.

So I muddle through the rest of the song, and then sing another to make sure "Unforgettable" was truly forgotten. I sigh with relief thinking the worst of the night is over. I sing a few more songs without incident, and Steve even invites me to come and sing on his radio show, so he must still respect me a little.

Steph and I then decide to hit the buffet. We load up, in the most delicate way possible, I still have fat girl complex. I promise not every post will have to do with my weight, but I must explain the fat girl complex. When you are really overweight, people watch you when you eat. They watch you at a buffet, or refreshment table. They may not even realize they are doing it, but they watch everything you put into your mouth. At least it feels like they do. Hence and therefore, I can't comfortably eat at any kind of buffet, I'm nervous to ride in small cars sometimes, and rickety chairs send chills down my spine.

Moving on. Steph and I decide to divide and conquer as far as cake is concerned. My fat girl complex and I are going to throw away plates and refill water cups, and Steph is going to get us some cake. We split up. I walk across the lawn and dispose of the plates, and then proceed across the lawn toward the water. I didn't notice a giant cord running right across my path and totally tripped on it. I didn't fall, but it was close...I did however knock out the power in the entire reception. The chandeliers in the tents went out, as did all other lights and fans associated with said cord. I froze for a moment not knowing what would be more embarrassing. I decided it would be best to just keep walking. Did I mention that it was dusk, and as soon as the lights went out, you could hardly see a thing? Oh yeah, and the part of the lawn I was walking across was right next to Steve and the stage. Man if this guy didn't think I was a moron before...

Giggling, yet trying to keep it casual, I continued walking toward Stephanie. I get to her at the cake and try to whisper in her ear that I had just shut down the power grid, but I was laughing so hard just little puffs of air and snorts were coming out. This was compounded by the fact that she was looking at me like I was speaking Greek, and said, "I can't understand a word you are saying." This just made me laugh harder. I was literally crying at this point. About now, someone found my cord and reconnected it, and the party resumed it's previous buzz. Steph and I walk back to the table to shove down some cake, and get my books. I calm down enough to relay the story.

We have a good laugh and then decide to make a less conspicuous departure. As we're walking out, something strikes Stephanie, "You know, it wouldn't have been that bad if you had just been another wedding guest, but you just sang, and now everyone knows that it was the wedding singer that knocked out the lights." I guess that's why I'm not a lounge singer.