There’s a song that’s been haunting me since just after Thanksgiving. It’s a lullaby that some people think is a Christmas song. It’s not; it’s really just a lullaby. But when songs get stuck in my head, what that usually means they’re sparking a story.
I know that doesn’t seem like a problem, but it became when I realized two things:
1) The story I’m working on will have to be part of my podcast this month.
2) Since I can’t find a podsafe version of the song, I have to record it myself.
Well, okay. I can sing. I’ve been singing since before I could walk – literally. I can also play the cello, koto, dulcimer, autoharp, and musical saw, but I sold my cello a year ago when I realized my carpal tunnel had gotten too bad to play it, and I don’t own any of the others. (Well, we own a saw, but not in my key.)
What I cannot do – could never do – is play the piano.
It’s not for lack of interest.
It’s for lack of ownership. To play the piano without a piano, is kind of a trick.
So, I’m trying to learn this song well enough to do a decent job of singing bits of it as punctuation to this story I’m writing, but there’s this weird key-change in the middle and I can’t find a version to sing with (for practice) that’s in a key where I’m comfortable. (The perils of being a lyric mezzo / belter, and not a true alto or true soprano.)
My frustration led to the following exchange with my husband about an hour ago:
Me: Fuzzy, if you hear singing, ignore it. I need to be comfy with this song so I can use it on pod.
Him: I don’t hear a thing.
Me: Keep it that way. (beat) I really need this about a third lower.
Him: You can’t find it in a key you like?
Me: No. I want a holographic accompanist for Christmas.
Him: I’ll get right on that.