An evening with the Piano Man

This week I received a flier in the mail from my Grandfather's assisted living home. The Piano Man was coming to do a Christmas carol sing-a-long and the local cable T.V. channel would be there to tape it. Gramps has been trying for awhile to get someone to come to one of these events to see the P.M. so I looked at my calendar, and thought, well, Saturday evening is open, the kids would love the entertainment, and it would be great to see Gramps.

I called the home and RSVPed that we would be there. I also called Gramps to tell him, and warned him I'd be late, most likely, since I was in charge of birthday parties at work. They never get out of the building when they are supposed to. Tonight I left at six, and the event started at six thirty. We ended up being ten minutes late.

I never expected such a packed house. Because we were ten minutes late, we ended up sitting in another room watching through large glass windows that divided the two areas. Since it was a sing-a-long, I sang, as did everyone else.

Now, I think I have a fair voice. I can carry a tune, most times, and I have always done well in choruses. But I have never had a lesson in my life. I tend to go flat, especially if I've had little to no practice on a song. But for some reason, some people think I have an amazing voice. I love the compliment, but I really don't think it is as good as they say. Either way, my voice got me into trouble tonight. The director of Gramps' home came over and begged me to sit in the room where the piano was, near the P.M. "Your voice will ring through the room, the residents will love it."

Embarrassed, but wanting to make my Grandfather proud, I decided to be a good sport, and I allowed her to shuffle me away from my family and Gramps to sit near P.M. Every so often there would be a time out because it was being recorded for T.V. and during one of those breaks, P.M. turned around and said "Is that you? You have a fabulous voice." The self-conscious feeling I was feeling before grew bigger. I was sure my face was a deep rouge.

During the next round of singing, a woman with a flashing lights Santa hat came over and put the microphone near me. I noticed the camera man motion to her to put it back and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was short-lived, however, because during the next time-out, I was asked to do a little solo. "Uh, sure," I replied uncomfortably knowing this would make Gramps' night. He had been trying for months to get me to perform for his friends. I haven't sang since high school. I just keep putting him off. Between family, work and school, I have no time to put together an hour of music. And really, that's not my thing anyway.

So, P.M. asked me,"Is there something you'd like to sing?"

I would rather sing nothing I thought to myself but instead answered, "I'm an alto, as long as it doesn't go too high, I can hit the notes."

"How about White Christmas."

"Ok."

"The cameraman says you have to stand up."

You've gotta be kidding me. "Ok." I replied as I stood up at the mic.

P.M. opened with a few bars of music and then nodded to me to start. I just prayed Please God, let me not get off key from the start. I always have trouble finding my starting pitch. Then I prayed, Please God let me hit the high notes. Actually, please let there be no high note surprises. And I started to sing. My nerves were so high, my stomach was physically shaking.

I made it through two verses he had written on the sing-a-long song sheet, and then P.M. did a musical interlude. He nodded at me to come back in, and by that time, my nerves were feeling a little better. The ending was in sight. I made it. I don't know if I hit any bad notes. I certainly hope not. Everyone complimented me at the end of the night, and my grandfather beamed ear to ear. I felt I probably would have been complimented out of courtesy if nothing else. The piano man told me I was a good sport. Not everyone is willing to do that. Now that was a compliment I could accept for face value.

I still felt embarrassed, and still do, but it was worth it to see how happy Gramps looked. Then the Mr. informed me he was going to tape the T.V. airing of tonight's show. Ugh. I didn't think about the possibility of being on T.V.! I'm now praying they edit me out, but if not, tune in and share with me my anxiety of my impromptu solo. All I know is, I doubt I'll be watching.