Good Stuff and Worries

Patti keeps saying I only post once a month. Well, here's another one, making about 5 this month....so there.

So, the budget was approved for me to do a weekly singalong at the Children's Museum. Yay! Now I just have to figure out scheduling. And possibly how to set up my speaker so that I don't have to be so careful about where I stand.

Had another Musicare demo last week, too - this one just for one big class instead of four smaller ones. It was just as lovely and fun as the first one, although bigger classes are always a challenge as far as control goes. So far, at both my demo sessions I've had the classroom teachers in the room, which helps. Although I have found that the teachers tend to micromanage a bit -

"Play the drum like this, Johnny."
"Susie, she said put your sticks this way."
"Quiet drums while we're passing them, Sammy."

Which is fine, and it does help me to maintain order. But being the worrywart that I am, I become self-conscious and wonder if they think I can't control the group on my own. And I can't exactly tell them that I'm giving the kids a minute or two to see what the group is doing and mirror it. I also worry that the teacher presence will become a crutch and I'll actually forget how to steer the ship on my own.

Then again, maybe they're thinking some of the same thing - guest in the room, gotta show that our kids behave.

Oh, well...gotta focus on the kids. If they're having fun, our grownup insecurities matter very little.

First Demo Class

My first demo was a huge success! I had four classes - 3 preschool, one pre-K. Oh, it was just lovely. I expected it to work, I expected things to go relatively smoothly. After all, these classes are time-tested. But I had never sung a name song with a group of preschoolers who had never had a song "personalized" for them before.


There were eleven of them sitting in the circle, experiencing varying degrees of shyness. But when I got to each one of them, and sang that child's name in the song, each one got the sweetest little smile, and I was thrilled.

There was one little boy who had come in with his arms crossed over his nametag. He was clearly feeling a little bit sulky...I figured he'd probably been dragged away from a favorite toy or game; of course I didn't take it personally. He was to my left in the circle and I started on the right, so his turn would come at the end. Halfway through the name song, I heard him whisper to his teacher, "This is actually kind of fun." One small victory.

I actually remembered to do the "new" words AND motions to "Tommy Thumb" - or "Thumbs Pointing Up," as I must remember to call it for class. And in a few of the classes - by the time we got to the third and fourth verses, the kids were actually singing with me.

Maybe it's because I'm relatively new at this, but the experience of hearing a child sing a song I taught him or her...it still amazes me. Especially if it's a song I've known for a very long time. I can't explain it, and I'm not sure I really want to try. The sense of wonder is enough, and the deep, sure feeling that comes from spreading music like candlelight.

Old Songs, New Tricks

Right now I am on the Musicare website, attempting to learn the "new" words to a song I've known for two-thirds of my life.

The song is "Tommy Thumb." Our company director hates songs that are "gender-biased." (She's really quite sane...this is her only "thing.") So here I am on the website, the day before my first demo, attempting to memorize new names for the fingers.

Thumbs, pointer fingers, tally finger, ringer finger, pinky finger...thumbs, pointer, tally, ringer, pinky...pointer, tally, ringer, pinky...

Oy. I can sing "Tommy Thumb" in my sleep. I probably do. Which makes it that much harder to learn a different set of words. And even harder, to remind myself to sing those words instead.

I wonder what my chances are of actually remembering.

I also have to learn stick motions for "Wheels on the Bus"...I hope Marie calls me back, because I can't figure out a stick motion for the Babies verse that doesn't involve the kids poking themselves in the eye.

Wah wah wah, wah wah wah...

Gig at the BCM...hopefully first of many!

I was, to quote Sharon - well, actually to quote Patti quoting Sharon - "scared out of my tiny little mind."

I arrived at the Children's Museum this morning for my "trial" sing-along show. If it went well, they'd put me on the schedule regularly.

No pressure though.

I had picked out my outfit carefully. Trusting in the tasteful fashion sense of Patti and Lois, I had foregone the hot-pink top and pigtails for a demure salmon-colored fitted tee and knee-length black skirt with leggings. I looked professional, but approachable. Hopefully. Carrying my sound stuff and guitar for 5 blocks had left me with arms twice their usual length, but no matter. I plugged in my new portable amp, turned on my clip-on "lav" mic...and nothing. "Testing, testing." Nothing.

Oh, goody, the "low battery" light is on.

So I had a nearby staffer page the manager, who found me a spare 9-Volt battery. Thank heavens, we have liftoff. I tuned, I turned the mic on and off, testing distances and hoping for lack of feedback. Finally, a half hour later, I began.

I have to admit, I was dreadfully nervous. I know people that work here. If I messed up, I'd have to look them in the eye every day.

I opened with "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain." There was one dad and a baby, and I crossed my fingers, hoping for more. I went into my "Old McDonald" - jazzed up a little, and with added stuffed animals for effect. A few more kids trickled in. I went into "Wheels on the Bus," and bingo (no pun intended), I had a crowd. Yay! My heart was fluttering in my chest and I thought it must show in my voice, but I moved onward.

"Sur Le Pont D'Avignon" was fun, though I was sure my voice was wobbly. I tried "Turkey in the Straw."

Now here's the odd part. I'd done a gig in February and this song had KILLED. Kids were laughing, parents were clapping...this time, they were all looking at me like I had six heads. Oh well. Can't win 'em all. I was sad, though; I adore singing the "donut" verse.

(Ask me about it - it's awesome. Courtesy of Lois, naturally.)

My slow song was "Hush Little Baby," and I felt my voice coming back. Thank heavens for lullabies. I put down the guitar for "Itsy Bitsy Spider"...it's no fun without the hand motions...and it was a hit. Of course, that's when my speaker decided to feed back at me. The kids loved the "teensy weensy spider." The amp did not. Squeeeeak. I ended up inching to the left away from the amp, resulting in a very interesting sideways-walking spider. The itsy bitsy crab went up the water spout?

The audience was very forgiving.

I had planned to close with "Meetin' in the Buildin'," a fun spiritual sort of song, but I was too nervous. I knew I couldn't get the power I needed. So I wound down with "Small World" and it seemed to go over well.

After the show, the program director said she'd like to have me on once a month or so. (She also gave me a plastic carnation.) I was thrilled...and, bundle of confidence that I am, prayed that she wouldn't change her mind. Fortunately, another staffer (who's also a mom) also said she enjoyed it a lot.

So, here's hopin' it goes through. I could really use the experience, and a paying gig is always nice.

Skinnamarink!

It was just like old times...only completely different.

At 10:45 or so on Sunday, May 4, the ushers for the Sharon, Lois and Bram show opened the doors to the theater. Now, in the old days, I would have already been there. In fact, I would probably have escaped into the backstage hallway long before the door even opened, so as not to get trampled. But this time, I hadn't come by myself as I used to. I'd come with eight other people, only two of which I'd met as of thirty-six hours earlier. The rest I'd met on a Yahoo group run by one of their other old friends, Paul Leary. We'd all met the night before and had wandered over to the theater early.

Very early. Bram, upon arriving at about nine-fifteen or nine-thirty, deemed us completely insane. "Aren't you COLD?" he asked. But with a smile on his face, of course, as he greeted us all before heading into the theater to tune and prepare.

A photographer at the theater took pictures of our group, and taped us singing "Skinnamarink." This was already more attention than I was used to at one of these... but then again, there were nine of us. I was no longer a fly on the wall.

Sharon was already in the theater when we got in...I ran down to greet her, then introduced her to Patti. Patti got the hug she had been waiting for for twenty years, and I was so happy - after having my own dream come true in much the same way, it felt wonderful to help make it happen for my friend.

Then Lois arrived with her standard accessories - big sunglasses and an assortment of black tote bags. I hadn't seen her in nine years, and Sharon smiled as she ducked out of the way so that I could run over and hug her. It was wonderful to see her again - just wonderful.

It was chaos, but it was fun. At one point, I found myself perched on the stage left stairwell, conversations flying through the air behind me, as I pulled out my hairbrush to tame my windswept hair. Lois' glasses were sitting on the stage, Bram's guitar waiting patiently by the microphones.

I was home. After so many years, so many ups and downs in my life, drifting so far away I never thought I'd return... I had come home.

The concert was lovely; they opened with "Tingalayo." I remembered Sharon and Bram singing it last year in Winona. Lois jumped in with the first verse...except it wasn't her turn. I giggled...I can't even count the number of times I've done that in just the last month, at KidStage. They sang "Once I saw Three Goats." We all laughed at the turtles wearing girdles verse. We'd just been talking the night before about how no one knows what a girdle is any more, but it rhymes with turtle, so no matter. :) After the "25 Years" film it was "Hey Dum" and "Skinny"...or, in layman's terms, "Hey Dum Diddley Dum" and "Skinnamarink."

I still remember how I learned those "shorthand" titles. My first time meeting them - the Syracuse Symphony show, February 99. Lois sent me off exploring as she got ready, and I was twirling about onstage when the stage manager taped the set lists to the mic stands. I felt like I had been let in on a very important secret.

The festival people kicked us out pretty quickly after the show, and we took pictures in the lot behind the theater. Lots and lots of pictures. And we talked some more, and Lois showed us pictures of her lovely new granddaughter, Tessa, and I showed pictures of Anthony. Then we all split off.

It went so quickly. I felt like I had blinked and the whole morning had gone by... but it had been wonderful.

Oh, and there was more to the weekend. Much more. Sharon's stories of her trip to Africa. A pair of elephant earrings that we thought we'd have to mail to her, until we saw her passing right by us on the street. An afternoon wandering through Kensington with Patti, and a giant orange sign saying "Kensington Market" that led to a long-running joke.

Hey, Patti, where's Kensington Market? It should be around here...

Now, you may be wondering why I'm writing all this in a blog that is supposedly about my work in children's music. But I wouldn't have found my way into this business if it weren't for Sharon, Lois and Bram - they are my inspiration, my roots and my musical heritage. They are a part of my heart and a part of me. They belong here, just like I belong on the side of the stage, brushing my hair as Lois gets ready to perform.

They are my home.