I just want to sing

Last night I watched a program about Linda Ronstadt, a Tucson AZ native, called “The Sound of My Voice” and man did it stir me.

When asked about music she said that she just wanted to sing, she loved music and she wanted to be around music and sing. I know exactly what she means.

Another similarity between Linda and me is that when my family got together we would sing. Lots of singing. Hers was the same. My grandmother had a beautiful soprano voice, my grandfather carried a tune in his rough bass/baritone and we all have memories of them singing their love song – harmonizing to each other.

I have a new grandbaby due in January and that little peanut has DNA flooded with vocal music ability from both sides. I can’t wait to sing to and with that wee one.

Once, years ago I auditioned for a band with Linda’s arrangement of “Heat Wave” and booked it! I’ve been told I sound like her, especially when I was younger and could really belt out a ballad. I can still do a good job covering a song, age hasn’t stopped me yet. I’ve always wanted to sing the standards in a little combo, that played in a night club.

I remember when my grandmother was in her 70’s hearing her sing the voice was not as strong but the love for the music was there and she always was in tune.

At the end of the program, watching Linda and her family sing together truly moved me. She had to stop them at one point because she knew, in her mind, the note she wanted to sing, but it wouldn’t come out. The show ended with her finishing the song – hitting the harmony beautifully. I put my hand over my heart as I watched her sing and could see the Parkinson’s tremor in her hands.

Damn that disease for taking the voice of one of the best singers in the world!

Cheers!

-N

Tumbling Dice

Mick Jagger and Linda Ronstadt both did great versions of this rocking song.

…This low down bitchin’ got my poor feet a itchin’,
Don’t you know you know the duece is still wild.
Baby, I can’t stay, you got to roll me
And call me the tumblin’ dice.
Always in a hurry, I never stop to worry,
Don’t you see the time flashin’ by.
Honey, got no money,
I’m all sixes and sevens and nines.
Say now baby, I’m the rank outsider,
You can be my partner in crime.
But baby, I can’t stay,
You got to roll me and call me the tumblin’ dice

These lyrics have been running through my mind the last couple of days. That feeling of running, hiding my head in the sand, looking for a jolly holiday yet I can’t afford one. Most humans need and want stability. You know-this is me, this is who I am and where I am.

No, I don’t go there.

Climbing out of a barrel, digging out of a hole, pulling oneself up off the floor.

Hubby and I have to regroup and retrench. The man is my security. We made a big change this weekend. It was a hard one for me personally, but the necessity was absolute. It also hearkened back to a place and situation in my life where I lost control of my circumstances and was in an unavoidable emotional spiral. As these feelings surged through me I found myself sharing with Chuck a time in my life no one on this blue planet knew of except my father. I had buried the pain and shame of it deeply.

Now here I was, doing what was best, even though I felt totally responsible for the negative situation we found ourselves in and the old baggage floated to the surface. I controlled myself for the most part, giving in to the tears that fought painfully in my throat for release, and adulting my way through it.

I am better now, but this taught me a further lesson. The past is never truly buried. It can reach up and grab me, like the hand in the grave from the movie “Carrie” and scare the shit out of me, again.

Yep, the rank outsider; running and ducking, weaving and bobbing, headed for the Emerald City y’all.

Cheers!

-N