Smiling While Singing

The smile won’t quit. It’s coming up from my toes.

Never mind the nerves that spike at the thought of being heard out loud. I don’t even cringe so much at notes that aren’t exactly on pitch. I’m just so tickled to be putting into sharable format some of the songs that have come into my head over the years.

Bless the good and generous hearts of my friends Barry & Lynn, who support my noodling with vocals at the microphone in their basement, while Barry noodles accompaniments, with precision, playfulness and a musicality that flows and flows. Some of these tunes he’s never previously heard! How does he do that?

On my last visit with the grandie, while driving her home from school, she asked for a particular CD she and I enjoy listening to. It’s Loudon Wainwright, III singing his Recovery Album version of Be Careful There’s a Baby in the House - on a compilation CD gift from my friend Robin.

I said, “D! I took all the music into the house. Sorry, I don’t have any CDs in the car… well, except this one in my bag, that I recorded in my friend’s studio.”

“Put it in, Gra’Moose!”

There were two songs on that CD: I Cry for the Children and Running Through Green Forests. I popped it into the player, and turned up the volume.

When the second song finished, I popped it out.

From the back seat, D said, “Gra’Moose, there are tears in my eyes and I don’t know why.”

Uh, oh, I thought... that first one is a doozy... it really is a sad song... I hope I haven’t scarred her for life.

“Is that really you, Gra’Moose?”

“Yes, Miss D, I’ve written a whole bunch of songs.”

“Well, where are they? Why are there only two?”

“That’s all I’ve recorded so far, D. I’m working on recording some more.”

Silence.

“Play it again, please.”

I did. 

She was quiet for a long time at the end of Running Through Green Forests. All we could hear was the traffic swishing by on the freeway. In the rear-view mirror, I saw her wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. We rode in stillness a few more minutes.

As we turned onto the off ramp, I began singing “Be careful, there’s a baby in the house…” and D sang along, gleefully anticipating her favorite lyric: "All that cootchie, cootchie coo is a lotta poo poo… when you spread it on that thick."

Like her Auntie Sid, who memorized song lyrics instantaneously, from nursery school onward, Miss D seems to know all the words to mostly all the songs I’ve ever sung to her, and the lyrics to songs she and her mama listen to on the long trip to school and back. She’s five! How does she do that?

CDs are the “known” source of music to my granddaughter. Apart from her neighbor Liza and me playing guitars at her birthday parties or at Halloween, I’m not sure whether or not D has ever been to a live performance of music of any kind. I’ll have to ask her mama.

Recording a small album in the sharable CD format, just for her, is one of my goals. 

When she was three years old, I sang some of her favorite lullabies directly into the computer and sent the sound files, so my daughter could play them on her smart phone.

CDs have currency, validity and substance. You can carry them with you and play them in the car.

Miss D, next time, what I record in my generous friend’s studio is for YOU!

With gigantic thanks to L & B… gigantic thanks and a smile that starts in my toes and just won’t quit! They seem to know I'm on the right path.