The Business of Lullabies

I do not fancy myself a superb singer. I will never be that girl who sends chills down people’s spines when I hit that one note, because it’s pretty damn certain I won’t ever hit that one note. Believe me, I’ve tried. No crowds will ever fill Madison Square Garden just because I’m there to sing; although I have no doubt that my Rockstar, my brother, and I will fill it when we finally start our band. I can carry a tune, and sound better than about half the people you hear attempting to sing, including Taylor Swift. Nevertheless, I fully intend to sing to my baby once he gets here. I just hope my doing so will not cause more tears than are normally expected from a baby.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that the songs I use as lullabies may very well be the songs my baby uses as lullabies to his own children someday, if he has any. (The continued use of male pronouns in reference to my baby are my way of using osmosis to decide his gender for him. He has no legs yet, so there is no way he has yet sprouted a teeny tiny penis. But I will continue to try to sway him.) Or, if nothing else, they will be songs he fondly remembers as ones his crazy mother sang to him because she loved him. Either way, this is not business that should be taken lightly. Music is the poetry of sound. So instilling in my baby a vast library of musical genres is a must. So far, here is my lullaby list:

For standards, I’ve only yet come up with two:

1. Over the Rainbow

2. Baby Mine from Dumbo

Moving along to somewhat newer music:

3. Let It Be by The Beetles

4. You’re Beautiful by James Blunt (Sidenote: As this James Blunt song is about a girl who is addicted to drugs, I feel that I may only sing the chorus so as not to introduce my babe to such evility prematurely.)

5. Jesus Loves Me

6. Give Me Love by Jasmine Cain (a mostly-independent artist, but a great song)

7. I’ll Be There by The Jackson 5 (or Mariah Carey, if you prefer)

8. True Colors by Cyndi Lauper

9. The Rainbow Connection by Kermit the Frog (a song my uncle used to sing to me when I was small)

10. Silent Night (a Christmas song, sure, but what better to sing about than the night I hope to have?)

11. Love is Forever by Slaughter

12. Unconditionally by Katy Perry

13. Unchained Melody by the Righteous Brothers

This is only a start, so I open my lullaby list to those of you in blogland, so speak now. Just know that Rob Zombie and Iron Maiden will have to wait just a year or two.

One in 300

… And then I found myself completely out of my element, surrounded by actual singers, as in- voice teachers, theatre majors, baritones, and a microbiologist.

Welcome to my Les Miserables audition.

I believe this was the utterance of my thoughts to myself:

“Fuck. what was I thinking?! I’m scared to sing in front of my Rockstar unless I’ve the help of my good friend Jack Daniels. “They’re all gonna laugh at you!” What was that line from anyway? Whatever. What’s the worse that could happen?”

“You could become the inspiration for one of those horrendous audition montages you always see in movies. You know- the ones where the terrible singers all make fools of themselves, and then one amazing singer shows up and automatically blows everybody away.”

“But why couldn’t I be the one who blows everybody away?” I wondered  sadly to myself.

“Because this isn’t a fucking boob competition, dumbass.” Myself is sometimes painfully honest to…myself.

“Well, at least this girl next to me has purple feet.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what the casting directors are going to be looking at. Her feet. PShhh. You’re pathetic.”

I p’shawed myself. “Well, they’re gonna look at MINE! ‘Cause I gots beautiful red heels on.” I mentally stuck my tongue out at myself.

“Ooh! The piano is free! We should go play it, and leave a talented impression, ‘cuz you know your singing isn’t gonna impress no one.” Myself speaks in Southern uneducated black woman bad English sometimes.

“Fine.” I go to the piano because I know she’s right.

Of course it would happen that the first audition I ever go to draws a crowd of hopefuls numbering 300. After sitting in a hallway for 5 hours with singers warming up and “lalala”-ing, I wasn’t a bit nervous. I just knew there was no way in hell I was getting a part, even if there were 301 parts to cast. But dammit, I fuckin’ stayed anyway, and I DID what I said I was going to- luckily the directors had the decency to compliment me on my choice of song-Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’, even if I DID choke and make up a few words. No surprise when I didn’t get a call back today. The only consolation I have is that the people who can actually sing were just a wee bit disappointed when I had to cease my stellar piano playing to go make a fool of myself. That, and the fact that in all 300 people, I was one of the cutest, (the other being an amazing male singer  with a nicely-shaped disturbingly shiny shaved head) and was the only one stupid enough to wear 6 inch heels. The Miserable indeed.

“At the End of the Day”…

…I must audition for the local production of Les Miserables, whether I can truly sing or not.

Because it is my absolute favorite musical of all time.

I was really meant to be in the big Hollywood blockbuster production of Les Mis, but nobody even bothered to ask me if I wanted to win an Oscar for portraying a sad and pathetically fallen-from-grace Fantine. Instead, the picked Anne Hathaway and her amazing alien-esque eyes. Damn Them.

‘Tis alright, though. I’ve always favored Eponine and her heart-broken renditions of On My Own and A Little Fall of Rain. Luckily, in every production I’ve ever seen, the actor cast as Marius tends to be fi-ine. So if I get the part, I’ll get to have an attractive dude who can sing “hold me close, and let it be.”

While I would do well and have the “tools” to perfectly portray a prostitute, I suppose in the end I most closely could resemble a disenchanted Mme. Thenardier. I most certainly understand the concept of being married to someone who “isn’t worth my spit.” (Although, that’s a bit more harsh than I would actually put it.)

For my upcoming audition, I may choose one song from the person who’s part I wish to play, and another un-related song. Here is where I shall ask for opinions on which un-related songs may wow the Les Mis casting judges. While I have a strong voice that mostly hits correct notes, I would prefer any suggestions that are written for male types such as Steve Perry. (I suppose since I can execute any Journey song without the slightest qualm, any of those may be a good option.)

Now for the part of choosing a character to play…. I believe I shall sing one of Eponine’s selections, but the more I think about it, I believe it would be amazing and sexually confusing for all paying play-goers if I were to play the un-relenting Javier. I don’t always agree with era-appropriating old storylines, but would it not be a good time to see me in a power-hungry authoritative roll? I most certainly do.

“I dreamed a dream” that I starred in some production of Les Mis, and dammit, that’s what I’m gonna do.

Eulogy

Inspired by John’s post about funeral music, I thought it would be a good idea to write a eulogy for myself, on the off-chance that I decide to take a dirt nap. I have no plans of expiring any time soon, however, I am already past my Use By Date, so you never know. And as I know myself better than anyone else (because I have almost no friends and my parents are still convinced that I am not a bad seed) and as I wish to be conveyed in a proper and truthful light, it is up to me to write a eulogy that does this. I could leave it up to my Rockstar, but he is not quite as eloquent as I, and anyway, he has the spelling credentials of a 2nd grader, so no-one would even be able to read it. So here we go:

Sparklebumps was a girl who loved happiness, and felt it was her duty to bring it to others. Her ruffly skirts and glittery shirts made her feel like a movie star, and she wore her make-up as an accessory. claiming, “Look! Look at my sparkly purply eyeshadow!”, while batting her eyes at anyone who would pay attention. Her exctasy over little things like that kept her from being sent to the loony bin, I think.

As much as Sparkle enjoyed material things, (shoes, french fries, castles) she knew there was more to life than that. The best times were spent in the company of her Beloveds, even if they were just bummin’ around. To steal a line from her favorite movie, Moulin Rouge, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love, and be loved in return.” *sigh*

Yes, Sparkle was living in her own little musical. She would sporadically burst into song, just because it made her feel better. She knew the musical was all about her, (while some people claimed that was just her histrionic personality disorder) and every day she tried to be worthy of that honor. It did really upset her though, when other people refused to burst into song at their allotted times.

Sparkle loved books. She always said she would have a library, and she did. She just didn’t have a place to put it. Her love of books held no boundaries- she had fiction, how-to books, art books, self-help, bios, poetry, etc. Her thesaurus was her favorite, but sadly she misplaced it. She would leave all of these to her Rockstar and his Daughter, however- they don’t appreciate books because they are silly, so the only ones she will leave to her Rockstar is the Motley Crue trilogy.

Sparkle wanted to be an FBI agent, a writer,a mechanic,  an artist, a hairdresser, a surgeon, a lawyer, and a plethora of other things. This is the reason why she never went to school; the Libra in her was very bad at making decisions, and she would have wasted millions when she changed her mind every semester. She settled instead for the unstable life of getting whatever job would hire her. Perhaps not ideal, at the same time she met alot of people she wouldn’t have otherwise, and learned alot of stuff school never would have taught her.

Do not be sad for Sparklebumps, for she is now living in a hut in heaven. A hut? you ask? Yes, when she was younger, her father told her if she did no good deeds on earth , the only thing she will have earned when she got to Heaven was a hut. To which she replied, “Well, maybe I will only have a hut, but God taught me to be content with what I have, and anyway, everyone will want to come on over to my house, and you will be sitting in your heavenly mansion all alone, so there.”

I guess there is not much else to say, except that Sparkle was thankful for all her bloggy pals, that made her feel like her writing was worth reading. And she just wanted to love everyone in the whole world, but that would have made her a little slut. So she settled for flirting. Peace.

 

P.S. By the way, you are all invited to my funeral, (whenever it may be) but you must all wear something sparkly or bright, or they won’t let you in. Don’t worry, it will be an awesome party, with much candy. XOXO