Sometimes, you just need to be that kid who didn’t give a damn how she sounded. That kid who – when other teenagers were doing whatever other crazy things they needed to do – would climb the attic stairs and crank up her stereo, wrap her fingers around an imaginary microphone and sing like there was nothing else in the world that mattered.
When you’ve had what at the time feels like the worst day ever, and everything is all turned upside down, and you’re sick as a dog and feel like 5 miles of bad road even if you don’t look it, and your throat feels like you’ve swallowed a good measure of sandpaper and chased it with gravel, you don’t always jump at that chance, even when the DJ who’s hosting the karaoke competition tells you:
Yo Shaughnessy, we’re seriously short on singers, might need you to fill space
I dunno…I spent most of the day in bed trying not to cough myself to death
Well if you’re too sick to sing then..
I can maybe try something low, lemme take a look
And then you scroll through the ‘A’ section of the titles, not really looking, because when you feel like this, you really don’t expect to find anything. As a friend of yours often tells you – you’re setting yourself up for failure before you even start. And then a title jumps out at you..
No freakin’ way…
And you can feel the smile light your face, and somewhere on the other side of some mirror, the smile of that little kid in the attic way back in the past lights up the room.
And you roll your shoulders and lower your head as you step up to the microphone and wrap your hands around it, pulling it free from its stand with a motion that comes so smoothly that at that moment some people in the room realize that you’re a ringer. You flash a glance to the ‘judges’ who sit waiting for the interminable night to be over and sit back into one hip as the introduction starts
Come on babe why don’t we paint the town?
I have been doing ‘All That Jazz’ as an audition piece for years, long before the movie came out and it became too popular to use. I used it to audition for Canadian Idol and literally made the pictures on the wall vibrate when I hit the finale, the song is in my blood. The karaoke track is lousy, but that doesn’t really matter because I can hear the real backing in my mind, and once I get going on it doesn’t matter that this is the one night I decide to wear slacks instead of a skirt for my evening uniform, it doesn’t matter that my hair isnt’ set and my make-up isn’t done, that audience is mine…and when I hit the first chorus, I could hear the judges next to me (who were mostly cast members) murmuring “holy sh*t …she’s really good…”
Yeah guys, I’m one of you…don’t you ever forget that…
And also?
No I’m no one’s wife but oh I LOVE MY LIFE
And all…that…jazz