Choir and Singing, by Ricky

        In November 2011, in response to the topic “music,” I wrote an account of my acquisition of various tastes in music from youth to adulthood.  My tastes are not limited to just one or two types of music and one sentence therein deals with, not only listening to my favorite march, but also conducting it whenever I hear the song played.  One aspect of music as it relates to me I did not write about – singing.

        From Kindergarten through 6^th grade, first at the Hawthorne Christian School then the Cambridge Elementary School and finally at South Tahoe Elementary School, music is included as part of the required curriculum.  As a result, I learned to sing religious children’s songs and fun or near nonsense songs.  Among the former I recall Onward Christian Soldiers and Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.  In the latter category, I remember, “Skip to My Lou”, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” and “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall.”

        Sixth grade was the final time I sang in a school Christmas program.  It was not because I did not want to sing but because the 7^th grade and higher did not participate.  Therefore, as I aged into the teen years, the only singing I did was either in the shower (figuratively speaking) or around the campfire on scout campouts.

        As I attained the age of majority at 21, I sang in the choir of my church; not regularly but often enough.  My voice was stuck somewhere between bass and tenor like halfway in between, neither one nor the other dominating. 

        While stationed in Florida as part of the Air Force, I fell in love for the first time; or perhaps had my first major crush on a girl my age would be more accurate.  (I’m not counting the pubescent crush on my 5^th grade teacher).  As a result, I became acquainted with her family for several years.  After I married Deborah who was the best friend of my crush, Charla, we ended up at Brigham Young University where I was a student of law enforcement.

        One day, Deborah told me that Charla’s brother (Vern) was also attending the school and that he is a member of a 50’s band.  She also said the band was playing that night at the student union building and we should go, which is her way of saying, “We’re going!”  We ended up attending the event with another couple from our student-housing complex and shared a table at the side of the room.  There were about 200 students present.

        Before the show began, Deborah found Vern and he joined us at our table for a few minutes.  The musical performance was excellent.  The band played all sorts of 50’s rock music but seemed to feature music by the Beach Boys, which I happen to like.  The band needed to play one more song before intermission.  However, as part of their performance, this song was not to be sung by the band alone.  All four members of the band rushed out into the audience and literally grabbed a person and pulled him to the stage to sing with the band.  Vern came out and grabbed me.

        Of course, I protested just like the other victims were doing but in the end “Deborah made me do it,” (at least that’s my excuse).  At that time in my life, I was introverted, shy, and always maintained a “low profile” so I was very anxious about what was about to happen.  I did not expect a good result from singing an unfamiliar song with no advance rehearsal.  I became even more worried when it was clear that the four victims (all males) will be singing four-part harmony without the band members.  The worst part was having the band members sing their parts, one at a time and each victim had to sing it back.  The others did fairly well as I recall but my anxiety increased when it became clear that my part was last; too much time to think about it.  Then panic set in when Vern sang his part.  It was in the falsetto range and I never sang anything that high since before puberty attacked me.

        As I wrote above, Vern sang his part and I sang it back.  The band selects victims to sing with as a regular part of their performance to be a bit of comic relief I suspect, especially the falsetto part.  When I finished singing the phrases back at Vern, he just stood there with his mouth stuck open for a full second.  By the next second, he and the audience were applauding.  Apparently, I sang the part back perfectly.  The only other time I sang solo and received applause occurred in a weekly scout meeting when I taught the troop the summer camp’s song by singing it to them.  Both back then and on this night my face flushed.

        The four of us victims went on to sing the first verse acapella and band members joined in for the rest; more applause when we were done.  I was relieved it was over.  In spite of a few extra hugs and kisses from Deborah, I cannot remember anytime that I have sung solo to any audience after that night.

        The name of the song?  Barbara Ann by the Beach Boys.

© 8 April 2013 

About the Author 

 I was born in June of 1948 in Los Angeles, living first in Lawndale and then in Redondo Beach.  Just prior to turning 8 years old in 1956, I was sent to live with my grandparents on their farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years during which time my parents divorced.

When united with my mother and stepfather two years later in 1958, I lived first at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, California, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966.  After three tours of duty with the Air Force, I moved to Denver, Colorado where I lived with my wife and four children until her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after the 9-11-2001 terrorist attack.

I came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010.   I find writing these memories to be therapeutic.

My story blog is, TheTahoeBoy.Blogspot.com.