I spent the first six or seven years in my choir feeling like The Ugly Dachshund. (For those who don't know, The Ugly Dachshund was first a book, then a movie - the book is better - about a Great Dane who thinks he is a Dachshund and therefore thinks he's ugly.)
Everything I sang was too loud; I was constantly nudged to want to sing alto (no! as I've written about on numerous occasions, singing in that limited range, which is mostly around my passaggio break, is at best unsatisfying and at worst useless as a vocal workout). I do sing alto in some of the masterworks (particularly Bach) where there are only two women's parts and the ranges of both are somewhat higher. Although there's still that hated "gap". By which I mean that choral soprano and alto parts are usually one fifth apart. As a mezzo, my voice is a third lower than a normal soprano's. Fortunately, somewhere along the line, the choir director started picking pieces with multiple women's parts so I found a home as a second soprano. It was perfect. I pretty much never had to sing a high A, but could sing lots of Es, Fs, and the occasional G, which is what I need to be doing to maintain vocal health. If I am not getting paid, singing in this choir needs to be a worthwhile and rewarding experience.
Even though as a child I imitated Julie Andrews (my first vocal solo was "Wouldn't It Be Loverly" in a school assembly when I was 6) once I grew up I never had that "float-y", shimmery, head-y sound that characterizes the soprano voice at its loveliest and most ethereal. When you think about it, neither does Julie Andrews. I heard a few clips of her singing coloratura arias as a teenager and her voice sounds a lot like Roberta Peters's: bell-like and wiry, but not ethereal, like, say, the voice of Natalie Dessay And then of course I started smoking. And like most New Yorkers, I speak entirely in my chest register. So it took years of study after I was "discovered" at 54 not just to extend my range upwards, but to liberate all that head voice. At lessons and at home I do a lot of singing on oo before I do anything else. The most scathing critiques I got about my singing during the early period (when I was going to auditions, between the ages of 56 and 60, let's say) was that I had very little head register and my voice sounded "locked". I also needed to clear out my sinuses which I did, finally, with the Neti pot. By 2014 or 2015 the way I sang had changed entirely. A fringe benefit was that not only was my operatic singing easier, I could also sing a choir soprano part in pure head voice, keeping the dynamic down sometimes as low as pp, without "getting off the voice".
During my "ugly Dachshund" period, I shed a lot of tears over comments from the choir director. I don't think he ever said anything nice about my singing unless I sang an alto solo. He didn't want me to sing "Rejoice Greatly". He thought I should transpose "I Know that My Redeemer Liveth" down. When I said no, he made me make a cut. I felt a lot of despair. I mean it's one thing to know I'm not singing well and quite another to feel that my voice is simply not to someone's taste so they will never like what I do, even when I do it well.
I am not going to re-hash here all the brouhaha about the singer I refer to as "Little Miss". That is ancient history and I think the whole thing was a learning experience; namely, that if you're leading a group, it's probably not a good idea to make a "fuss" over one person in public.
After that things went on fairly smoothly for a while.
So I was startled last night by the following. We had been singing a piece with multiple parts. Both of the soprano parts were fairly high (the first soprano part went up to a B with an optional C and the second soprano part went up to a G). The new dramatic soprano (whose voice is at least as big as mine if not bigger) was not there. There were two very light sopranos singing. After the rehearsal he went up to one of them (privately) and told her how wonderful she sounded. Since I overheard them, I kind of gave him a quizzical look and all he said to me was "I know that part is very high". I told him it was in a very comfortable range for me - I mean my part, the second soprano part, obviously. So he said "it just is meant to be light and sort of child-like". After that we had a nice talk, but it still stung. Feeling that one person was getting a compliment and I was getting (once again) some veiled criticism. I mean I doubt the new dramatic soprano can sound "childlike". Would he say something like that to her? I doubt it. He always goes up to her and thanks her for singing as if by singing she's doing him a favor. Which I guess she is. She has a lot of other vocal fish to fry.
I am actually surprised by how despondent I feel. Possibly, the pain of that disaster on December 30 is still with me although I know it was most likely caused by my having had an asthma attack, leading to a situation where my being short of breath for physical reasons (and also for feeling like all my vocal apparatus was inflamed) led to my panicking and ending up short of breath for psychological reasons.
I think partly the issue here is that the choir director is impressed by sopranos with float-y voices (even the new dramatic soprano sort of has one; her voice is big, but it's not "gritty" the way mine is). He also likes very young people. (The woman he complimented yesterday is in her 20s). It seems that the younger someone is the more likely he is to give them a compliment. If the person is female. He also likes low basses.
I don't want to feel sad. I was so happy thinking about my new plan to focus on nursing home concerts in an active way, not in a reactive way because I see it as the best I can do. I now have two serious "nibbles" about full-length concerts that I am going to follow up. Wednesday I had a lesson and we talked about concert repertoire. I ordered Yeston's December Songs. I am madly in love with them and can hardly wait to sing them.
Sitting here now I am crying, and want to kick myself.
ETA: It is now Sunday afternoon. The anthem went well. The dramatic soprano was not there. I nailed all the Gs sweetly enough not to elicit a raised eyebrow. As a point of gossip, "choir girl" (have no idea how I thought up that name for her) didn't sit with the choir because she brought a "guest" to the service. She has done that before, but the last time at least the guest was her Mom from out of town. Surprised that that didn't elicit a raised eyebrow.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Sunday, January 20, 2019
Changing the Narrative (Today's Sermon)
Almost every Sunday there is something in the sermon that speaks to me, even though I am not Christian. Today, the minister posed the question: Is there a place in your life where God is knocking on the door, a place where you feel stuck or broken? And I realized that the answer is "yes". The part of me that knows I will never have a place, even a tiny one, in the "world of singers" here in New York (which for me is "the world" as I have never lived anywhere else and would not know how to). That does not mean, however, that there is no place for me to sing. For a long time I have felt a calling to work with the elderly. Not now really, because I am involved in taking care of my partner. So beyond singing in senior venues there really is nothing I need to be doing. But if I outlive her (which I most likely will) I will want something to do, and volunteering to work with the elderly (I imagine this as being one on one; singing to them, particularly, not for applause but to give them their favorite songs, but also talking with them, listening to their stories, and just being with them) will be that something. It will never fill the hole in my heart that will be there forever when my angel is gone and it will not buy me the respect of "the Forum crowd" but it will fill my soul.
God is knocking on my door here. I know this.
The question is, will I listen. Is S/he knocking loud enough to drown out all the self-promotion of the hordes of people who have come here to "make it" in the performing arts, who make me feel so irrelevant and envious?
God is knocking on my door here. I know this.
The question is, will I listen. Is S/he knocking loud enough to drown out all the self-promotion of the hordes of people who have come here to "make it" in the performing arts, who make me feel so irrelevant and envious?
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
A Need to Change the Narrative
Or move the needle, as people are always saying.
I am trying to make a happy life for myself by putting as much creativity in it as I have time for, and being grateful for the rest.
I don't consider taking care of my partner a burden; it's not just that I love her, I also find many of the people-rich activities I am involved in as her caregiver to be stimulating. I love most of the aides who take care of her. They have opened my eyes and heart to a whole world that is very different from the one I grew up in and still live in, and which always leaves me feeling that I don't measure up.
A team of nurses came to see my partner. We are now enrolled in a program that originated when she was in the hospital the last time. It is geared toward people over 75 who end up in the hospital via an emergency room. They suggested that I buy her a coloring book. Now they are trying to get her a "buddy" (which would be a graduate student) from the Alzheimers Association.
I have one mini concert on the horizon and am doing some other networking. My far off future plan, if my loved one dies and I am still healthy, is to sing for seniors not just by giving concerts but also by volunteering at nursing homes where I could come sing at their bedsides (or talk with them, listen to their stories, read, or anything else).
I am not going to try to get any kind of advanced degree. I hate academics. I can do this as a volunteer and continue to spend 20 hours a week copy editing. It is boring and isolating, but it is what I need mostly because I can make my own schedule and I know how to find work. It is a very low maintenance kind of livelihood. And (God works in mysterious ways) I now am working on a journal about aging.
Here's the problem: I am distracted by bright shiny objects.
Almost every new person I meet is a real performer of some kind. Is or was. Is enough to have a web site and a list of credits going back to high school. Gorgeous professional head shots. A place to be seen. For example, if I tick off the 20 or so people in my choir, more than half of them have music or theater degrees and more than half of them have advanced professional degrees from prestigious schools. Many people have both. Someone new joined the choir (she is very nice, and not someone I would be competing with because she is a musical theater style belter) who has a flashy web site and a public presence. (Right now she has taken a "break" from regional theater to work in tech, and who knows? She might stay there.) But her web site is what I mean by a bright shiny object. Not the site so much as the fact that someone I met in a church choir has one. I want one too. I suppose I could make myself one, but what for? I have this blog, and a Youtube channel, but I am not part of the conversation. People will tell me "oh, you sounded lovely" but I am still at the bottom of the food chain. The people in my Pilates class are all retired academics, or something similar. One was a casting agent, one was (is?) an architect.
I can be having a happy day and then something coming out of the tsunami of uber-successful people I am drowning in will act as a trigger and I will dissolve into self deprecation because I am not a "bright shiny object" the way they are. Someone told me (I suppose a propos of all the talk about Stormy Daniels) that with my large frontage (real), my age (a niche market) and my expertise with hair, makeup, wigs, and even masks, I could have a web site full of "adult" photographic content. Is this the best I can do?? No thank you. Prudery aside, that's an overcrowded market, too. Is there anything that isn't?
If I can't have bright shiny objects (or be one) why can't I change the narrative? I can lose myself and be happy in small things (although nothing - except snuggling with my frail, sweet, partner - makes me as happy as getting up in front of an audience, singing well, and hearing applause) so why can't I stay there?
ETA: As always a glutton for punishment, I went back and googled "choir girl" to see what else I could find (a Facebook page? see who her friends are?) and found an article from last year's TIMES about her and her roommate (an aspiring opera singer) not about them as performers but about their travails with a North Manhattan apartment (I don't want to link to the article here for the sake of people's privacy). There was a gorgeous photo, and quite a lot about these two young women. So how did they nail a piece of publicity like that? That's what I'm dying to know. Are aspiring performers better at networking with journalists so that they can promote themselves in every way possible? I know a lot of people have various apartment travails and they don't have huge pictures of themselves in the paper. This just confirms my whine that I just don't know the right people.
I am trying to make a happy life for myself by putting as much creativity in it as I have time for, and being grateful for the rest.
I don't consider taking care of my partner a burden; it's not just that I love her, I also find many of the people-rich activities I am involved in as her caregiver to be stimulating. I love most of the aides who take care of her. They have opened my eyes and heart to a whole world that is very different from the one I grew up in and still live in, and which always leaves me feeling that I don't measure up.
A team of nurses came to see my partner. We are now enrolled in a program that originated when she was in the hospital the last time. It is geared toward people over 75 who end up in the hospital via an emergency room. They suggested that I buy her a coloring book. Now they are trying to get her a "buddy" (which would be a graduate student) from the Alzheimers Association.
I have one mini concert on the horizon and am doing some other networking. My far off future plan, if my loved one dies and I am still healthy, is to sing for seniors not just by giving concerts but also by volunteering at nursing homes where I could come sing at their bedsides (or talk with them, listen to their stories, read, or anything else).
I am not going to try to get any kind of advanced degree. I hate academics. I can do this as a volunteer and continue to spend 20 hours a week copy editing. It is boring and isolating, but it is what I need mostly because I can make my own schedule and I know how to find work. It is a very low maintenance kind of livelihood. And (God works in mysterious ways) I now am working on a journal about aging.
Here's the problem: I am distracted by bright shiny objects.
Almost every new person I meet is a real performer of some kind. Is or was. Is enough to have a web site and a list of credits going back to high school. Gorgeous professional head shots. A place to be seen. For example, if I tick off the 20 or so people in my choir, more than half of them have music or theater degrees and more than half of them have advanced professional degrees from prestigious schools. Many people have both. Someone new joined the choir (she is very nice, and not someone I would be competing with because she is a musical theater style belter) who has a flashy web site and a public presence. (Right now she has taken a "break" from regional theater to work in tech, and who knows? She might stay there.) But her web site is what I mean by a bright shiny object. Not the site so much as the fact that someone I met in a church choir has one. I want one too. I suppose I could make myself one, but what for? I have this blog, and a Youtube channel, but I am not part of the conversation. People will tell me "oh, you sounded lovely" but I am still at the bottom of the food chain. The people in my Pilates class are all retired academics, or something similar. One was a casting agent, one was (is?) an architect.
I can be having a happy day and then something coming out of the tsunami of uber-successful people I am drowning in will act as a trigger and I will dissolve into self deprecation because I am not a "bright shiny object" the way they are. Someone told me (I suppose a propos of all the talk about Stormy Daniels) that with my large frontage (real), my age (a niche market) and my expertise with hair, makeup, wigs, and even masks, I could have a web site full of "adult" photographic content. Is this the best I can do?? No thank you. Prudery aside, that's an overcrowded market, too. Is there anything that isn't?
If I can't have bright shiny objects (or be one) why can't I change the narrative? I can lose myself and be happy in small things (although nothing - except snuggling with my frail, sweet, partner - makes me as happy as getting up in front of an audience, singing well, and hearing applause) so why can't I stay there?
ETA: As always a glutton for punishment, I went back and googled "choir girl" to see what else I could find (a Facebook page? see who her friends are?) and found an article from last year's TIMES about her and her roommate (an aspiring opera singer) not about them as performers but about their travails with a North Manhattan apartment (I don't want to link to the article here for the sake of people's privacy). There was a gorgeous photo, and quite a lot about these two young women. So how did they nail a piece of publicity like that? That's what I'm dying to know. Are aspiring performers better at networking with journalists so that they can promote themselves in every way possible? I know a lot of people have various apartment travails and they don't have huge pictures of themselves in the paper. This just confirms my whine that I just don't know the right people.
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
2018 Wrap Up
I haven't done one of these for a while. This was an old meme that circulated in my previous blogging community, which I have returned to in a limited way to be part of their writing contest.
A friend posted this, so I thought it would be a good exercise to do one of my own. I didn't want to put it on Facebook (too many viewers) and didn't want to post it in the other blogging community because I want people who go to my page there to see my entry for the writing contest. So it's here.
1. What did you do in 2018 that you had never done before? Start seriously writing a memoir.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and did you make some for this year? I didn’t really make any. If I did informally, they will be the same for this year: work as hard as I can on my singing and writing, love my partner while she’s still here on earth, try to be more open to social interactions.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? One of the pastors at church did.
4. Did anyone close to you die? Blessedly no one. I am of the age when people I know just die, and it’s not unusual.
5. What countries did you visit? None. I haven’t been out of the country since 2004.
6. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? Invitations, invitations, invitations!! To sing (most of the time if I want to sing I have to make the initial ask), to do something wonderful on my next birthday that I don’t have to plan or pay for, to go on a special, magical outing that is not too expensive and that won’t take me too far away from my partner (and that takes place during the daylight).
7. What date from 2018 will be etched upon your memory and why? Good Friday where I was the (only) featured soloist. This is something I waited 10 years for.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Singing five recitals and doing a really good job with all of them.
9. What was your biggest failure? Standing up in church on December 30 to sing a piece with a high A in it, which I had sung beautifully and easily at the rehearsal, and being unable to make a creditable sound up there; I sounded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. (I may have had a cold-induced asthma attack beforehand; I’m not sure.)
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nothing serious. Just chronic arthritis and respiratory issues.
11. What was the best thing you bought? I treated myself to having my dining room painted.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? All the wonderful aides who take care of my partner, certainly the three who go above and beyond my wildest dreams, including one who gave me several expensive Christmas presents.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Duh!! The orange monster who committed treason to get into the White House and his disgusting band of congressional sycophants.
14. Where did most of your money go? Voice lessons, dentist.
15. What did you get really, really excited about? Singing and writing.
16. What song will always remind you of 2018? “Tanti affetti” from La Donna del Lago. It has seven high B flats in it and I aced it in three recitals.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you
Happier or sadder? Happier. I have chosen to spend more time with good ordinary people and less time with professional musicians and successful Upper West Side professionals.
Thinner or fatter? About the same, but my body is changing so much (bigger waist – actually good for singing - smaller hips, skirts are too tight, low rise jeans are too big, and everything is too long; had to get rid of a lot of clothes).
Richer or poorer? Certainly poorer as of December when my 401ks took a hit.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Socializing.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Mindlessly surfing the net in ways that I know will make me feel bad.
20. How did you spend Christmas? With my partner, in her bed, watching a marathon of Granchester.
21. Did you fall in love in 2018? Not in the romantic sense. I realized that I really really love some of the aides who take care of my partner. I don’t love easily. (I don’t think I’ve ever had a platonic female friend that I loved for example, which I guess is odd.)
22. Did your heart break in 2018? My heart breaks a little every day for my partner as she nears the end of life. Whenever I remember the “never agains” (traveling with her, going to the theater or the ballet with her, going to a museum with her, sitting up and eating at a table in a restaurant with her). But this is all counterbalanced by my gratitude that she is alive.
23. What was your favorite TV program? As always, Masterpiece Mystery and Masterpiece Classic.
24. Where were you when 2018 began? In bed with my partner, probably asleep.
25. Where were you when 2018 ended? See above; except that I woke up at 10:30 after a one hour nap and did get to watch the ball drop at Times Square, courtesy of Channel One.
26. Who will you be with when 2019 ends? I hope with my partner. I hope she is still alive.
27. What was the best book you read? I read so much I can’t choose, but The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters comes to mind.
28. What was your greatest musical discovery? Art songs and spirituals by Florence Price. Also her symphonic music.
29. What did you want and get? Another year with my partner.
30. What did you want and not get? Someone I would feel ok about listing as an “emergency contact” on a form (other than a doctor, a lawyer, or a therapist). A real birthday celebration planned by someone else. (These things are definitely related.)
31. What was your favorite film of the year? Maybe the cartoon film “Coco”? I watch a lot of films on Movies on Demand and lose track of which ones are from what year.
32. How many different states did you travel to in 2018? None. I haven’t been out of NY City since 2014 and prior to that I had not been out of NY City since 2009. My next trip will be to Ogunquit to scatter my partner’s ashes, so I can’t really say I am looking forward to my next trip. I hope maybe to take a day trip next year to Philly to see the art museums with some friends. We had talked about it this year but it didn’t materialize.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? Casual most of the time, but I always wear something dressier to go to church even though I’ll usually have a choir robe on. I get dressed up to sing. I have given away almost everything that is snug around the waist. However if I am going anywhere I always wear stagey makeup and have my hair set.
34. What kept you sane? The fact that my partner is on Medicaid and they provide 24 hour care.
35. What celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? My mind never goes in that direction. 36. What political issue stirred you the most? Well, this is about my head, not my heart. I think we have to clean up elections in all the states that are practicing voter obstruction first, then work to elect candidates who will enact a progressive agenda.
37. How many concerts did you see in 2018? Maybe 4 or 5? Chamber music at the church, a concert at Juilliard given by my choir director’s piano students (he teaches there), Jupiter symphony. (All free or $10).
38. Who was the best new person you met? A little boy in my after school program who makes me laugh.
39. Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year? Probably losing my temper at someone. I do do this less, thankfully.
40. What was your most embarrassing moment of 2018? See item 9.
41. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018? The lesson I learned in 2017 was reinforced: that I probably can never “do well” so I have to be content with “doing good”. Also, that there are all kinds of joyful, esteemable, worthy ways to make a life that don’t involve being a high-level professional (in music, theater, or anything else) and that I need to meet more people who are living that way and spend less time with the uber-class (who continue metastasizing all over my zip code, in particular), who just end up making me hate myself.
42. What are your plans for 2019? To keep singing, focusing on my niche of bringing joy to the elderly, to continue with my memoir and other writing, to work hard to appreciate the things I have and to love and cherish my partner as long as God grants that I can have her. Also to keep trying to meet people and make new friendships.
A friend posted this, so I thought it would be a good exercise to do one of my own. I didn't want to put it on Facebook (too many viewers) and didn't want to post it in the other blogging community because I want people who go to my page there to see my entry for the writing contest. So it's here.
1. What did you do in 2018 that you had never done before? Start seriously writing a memoir.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and did you make some for this year? I didn’t really make any. If I did informally, they will be the same for this year: work as hard as I can on my singing and writing, love my partner while she’s still here on earth, try to be more open to social interactions.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? One of the pastors at church did.
4. Did anyone close to you die? Blessedly no one. I am of the age when people I know just die, and it’s not unusual.
5. What countries did you visit? None. I haven’t been out of the country since 2004.
6. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? Invitations, invitations, invitations!! To sing (most of the time if I want to sing I have to make the initial ask), to do something wonderful on my next birthday that I don’t have to plan or pay for, to go on a special, magical outing that is not too expensive and that won’t take me too far away from my partner (and that takes place during the daylight).
7. What date from 2018 will be etched upon your memory and why? Good Friday where I was the (only) featured soloist. This is something I waited 10 years for.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Singing five recitals and doing a really good job with all of them.
9. What was your biggest failure? Standing up in church on December 30 to sing a piece with a high A in it, which I had sung beautifully and easily at the rehearsal, and being unable to make a creditable sound up there; I sounded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. (I may have had a cold-induced asthma attack beforehand; I’m not sure.)
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nothing serious. Just chronic arthritis and respiratory issues.
11. What was the best thing you bought? I treated myself to having my dining room painted.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? All the wonderful aides who take care of my partner, certainly the three who go above and beyond my wildest dreams, including one who gave me several expensive Christmas presents.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Duh!! The orange monster who committed treason to get into the White House and his disgusting band of congressional sycophants.
14. Where did most of your money go? Voice lessons, dentist.
15. What did you get really, really excited about? Singing and writing.
16. What song will always remind you of 2018? “Tanti affetti” from La Donna del Lago. It has seven high B flats in it and I aced it in three recitals.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you
Happier or sadder? Happier. I have chosen to spend more time with good ordinary people and less time with professional musicians and successful Upper West Side professionals.
Thinner or fatter? About the same, but my body is changing so much (bigger waist – actually good for singing - smaller hips, skirts are too tight, low rise jeans are too big, and everything is too long; had to get rid of a lot of clothes).
Richer or poorer? Certainly poorer as of December when my 401ks took a hit.
18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Socializing.
19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Mindlessly surfing the net in ways that I know will make me feel bad.
20. How did you spend Christmas? With my partner, in her bed, watching a marathon of Granchester.
21. Did you fall in love in 2018? Not in the romantic sense. I realized that I really really love some of the aides who take care of my partner. I don’t love easily. (I don’t think I’ve ever had a platonic female friend that I loved for example, which I guess is odd.)
22. Did your heart break in 2018? My heart breaks a little every day for my partner as she nears the end of life. Whenever I remember the “never agains” (traveling with her, going to the theater or the ballet with her, going to a museum with her, sitting up and eating at a table in a restaurant with her). But this is all counterbalanced by my gratitude that she is alive.
23. What was your favorite TV program? As always, Masterpiece Mystery and Masterpiece Classic.
24. Where were you when 2018 began? In bed with my partner, probably asleep.
25. Where were you when 2018 ended? See above; except that I woke up at 10:30 after a one hour nap and did get to watch the ball drop at Times Square, courtesy of Channel One.
26. Who will you be with when 2019 ends? I hope with my partner. I hope she is still alive.
27. What was the best book you read? I read so much I can’t choose, but The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters comes to mind.
28. What was your greatest musical discovery? Art songs and spirituals by Florence Price. Also her symphonic music.
29. What did you want and get? Another year with my partner.
30. What did you want and not get? Someone I would feel ok about listing as an “emergency contact” on a form (other than a doctor, a lawyer, or a therapist). A real birthday celebration planned by someone else. (These things are definitely related.)
31. What was your favorite film of the year? Maybe the cartoon film “Coco”? I watch a lot of films on Movies on Demand and lose track of which ones are from what year.
32. How many different states did you travel to in 2018? None. I haven’t been out of NY City since 2014 and prior to that I had not been out of NY City since 2009. My next trip will be to Ogunquit to scatter my partner’s ashes, so I can’t really say I am looking forward to my next trip. I hope maybe to take a day trip next year to Philly to see the art museums with some friends. We had talked about it this year but it didn’t materialize.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? Casual most of the time, but I always wear something dressier to go to church even though I’ll usually have a choir robe on. I get dressed up to sing. I have given away almost everything that is snug around the waist. However if I am going anywhere I always wear stagey makeup and have my hair set.
34. What kept you sane? The fact that my partner is on Medicaid and they provide 24 hour care.
35. What celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? My mind never goes in that direction. 36. What political issue stirred you the most? Well, this is about my head, not my heart. I think we have to clean up elections in all the states that are practicing voter obstruction first, then work to elect candidates who will enact a progressive agenda.
37. How many concerts did you see in 2018? Maybe 4 or 5? Chamber music at the church, a concert at Juilliard given by my choir director’s piano students (he teaches there), Jupiter symphony. (All free or $10).
38. Who was the best new person you met? A little boy in my after school program who makes me laugh.
39. Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year? Probably losing my temper at someone. I do do this less, thankfully.
40. What was your most embarrassing moment of 2018? See item 9.
41. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018? The lesson I learned in 2017 was reinforced: that I probably can never “do well” so I have to be content with “doing good”. Also, that there are all kinds of joyful, esteemable, worthy ways to make a life that don’t involve being a high-level professional (in music, theater, or anything else) and that I need to meet more people who are living that way and spend less time with the uber-class (who continue metastasizing all over my zip code, in particular), who just end up making me hate myself.
42. What are your plans for 2019? To keep singing, focusing on my niche of bringing joy to the elderly, to continue with my memoir and other writing, to work hard to appreciate the things I have and to love and cherish my partner as long as God grants that I can have her. Also to keep trying to meet people and make new friendships.
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