We are all doomed.
Why does no one ask about the Amchitka blasts anymore???
Saturday, 16 July 2011
Thursday, 14 July 2011
A Golden Voice
Once,as a young sprout, I had the opportunity to sing with my school choir.
I never thought that i possessed much of what one would call 'a voice' but the music teacher had decided that what emanated from my throat was the next thing to godliness and so he insisted that I join the group and sing (or God knows what would happen to me).
He seemed to be of the belief that I could hit a high note when required and immediately switch to a low one when also required. "A natural" he would scream.
I didn't think of myself as being a natural at anything more than finding new and innovative ways to consume chips and dip but he seemed to believe otherwise.
And so my parents consented to allowing Mr. Ferguson to turn me into the next Robert Merril (or, God forbid, Beverley Sills!).
At first, needless to say, I was mortified. I was a pre-teen whose idols were James Bond, Batman and Godzilla (not necessarily in that order) and suddenly I was being told to join what was for all intents and purposes the "gayest" of all possible endeavors - SINGING IN THE SCHOOL CHOIR!!!!.
What to do?
Play dead under the covers and hope that school in its entirety would just go away?
Not practical.
Start coughing and engaging in convulsions that would surely appear realistic as I'd recently seen them performed the same way in the latest Hammer horror film at the local theater?
Didn't work.
And so having been abandoned by the gods I ended up in the school choir!!!
Sang my little head off.
We won the Kiwanas Festival that year.
UNBELIEVABLE!!!
I'm still waiting for my recording contract.
I never thought that i possessed much of what one would call 'a voice' but the music teacher had decided that what emanated from my throat was the next thing to godliness and so he insisted that I join the group and sing (or God knows what would happen to me).
He seemed to be of the belief that I could hit a high note when required and immediately switch to a low one when also required. "A natural" he would scream.
I didn't think of myself as being a natural at anything more than finding new and innovative ways to consume chips and dip but he seemed to believe otherwise.
And so my parents consented to allowing Mr. Ferguson to turn me into the next Robert Merril (or, God forbid, Beverley Sills!).
At first, needless to say, I was mortified. I was a pre-teen whose idols were James Bond, Batman and Godzilla (not necessarily in that order) and suddenly I was being told to join what was for all intents and purposes the "gayest" of all possible endeavors - SINGING IN THE SCHOOL CHOIR!!!!.
What to do?
Play dead under the covers and hope that school in its entirety would just go away?
Not practical.
Start coughing and engaging in convulsions that would surely appear realistic as I'd recently seen them performed the same way in the latest Hammer horror film at the local theater?
Didn't work.
And so having been abandoned by the gods I ended up in the school choir!!!
Sang my little head off.
We won the Kiwanas Festival that year.
UNBELIEVABLE!!!
I'm still waiting for my recording contract.
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