Mary Wannabe

Onstage

And just when you thought that was all regarding my stage career, let me tell you when I sang as part of a quartet and played the guitar accompaniment for a singing competition in church.

Pick yourself off the floor.

I did.

I was only maybe fifteen and fearless.

I clearly remember our chosen piece. It was a popular tune called Very Last Day by American folk music trio Peter, Paul and Mary. 

Onstage, the girls and I belted out the three part harmonies emulating the rich tones of trained vocalists while I did the guitar work.

Everybody gonna pray on the very last day

Oh when they hear that bell a-ring the world away

Everybody gonna pray to the heavens on the judgment day.

I could swear that our voices boomed out to the back wall, wove their way through the open door and reverberated through the hall.

When I heard the big ripple of applause after our rendition, I remember how I couldn't keep my face from bursting into a massive, foolish smile. In my heart, I just knew our performance was a winner.

Indeed. 

We garnered first place besting the a capella belting of Sweet Chariot by the MYF Hopeless basketball team. 

Despite that premier singing success, however, I vowed never to wander again into the tricky waters of melodic warbling because I knew singing wasn't my forte. 

But maybe someday, on the very last day.

P.S.

As an interesting aside,  I just recently realized  that I did continue to sing randomly in my adult life.

After a Zoom celebration of Ninang Dan's 100th birthday with former UP Baguio colleagues last year (subject of my November 1st blog), I received these emails from the latter:

     Email #1: I remember you clearly singing while playing the guitar, that

     folk song "The river is wide, I cannot get o’er..." 

     Email #2: u knew me as one who could sing 2nd voice to ur first voice

     rendition of "bro john" with u on the guitar.

I suppose the trumpet didn't have to sound calling my name for me to burst out in song. 

For at that stage of my life, my heart sang of its own accord, longing to be close to someone whose hair had been sprinkled with moon dust by angels.

My spirit hummed on impulse, yearning to traverse the bridge over troubled waters when I had felt weary and small.

Going toward the fair, on the side of a hill bordered by rosemary and thyme, my soul spontaneoulsy intoned a melody for a true love of mine.*

And because I felt the feeling, I found the song.

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* - Lyrics referenced in this and the previous two paragraphs are from my go-to 70's songs Close To You by the Carpenters and Bridge Over Troubled Waters and Scarborough Fair by Simon and Garfunkel.