A BURBLING SCHNOOK

I began singing when I was about eleven. A previous post may have given you a more detailed description of my voice had any of you chanced upon it several months ago. During my lifetime singing I was often terrible and the other times just bad. However the reason for another foray into my musical career has to do with a change that recently made all other sounds of music go from the terrible aforementioned to a cacophony that bore no resemblance to any vocal impression that has ever emanated from my body. I just finished a choir performance for the apartment complex in which I live. The short but musical rehearsal went off without a problem and I was singing in my fluid bass voice going into the room wherein the performance would take place. It was a Christmas program and of course the traditional music was sung by the choir as well as any others that wanted to join in. Thank goodness a large number joined in singing Joy to the World loudly and with boisterous enthusiasm. But wait! What did I hear or rather heard? Suddenly a new tone emerges--from my stomach. Now I must admit, with a degree of modesty, that sometimes I sound not too bad for a man of my years but this, this is “traveling from afar” and not from the same hymn by that name. My stomach is going from bass to soprano with no stops in between. I cannot hit a note as written on the music before me. Do I change and move up with the Sopranos or the Altos or do I just open my mouth and lip sync the words. I kid you not. What did I eat that engenders those noises? The people in the choir are now looking at me strangely and you can sense them moving away. But wait, I was doing O.K. in rehearsal wasn’t I? O ye of little faith, they could care less. All they know is what they hear and you may recall I mentioned the words terrible or not bad but this was a new low it was horrible and it wasn’t low. I could live with low notes but this ran the entire range from a profoundo to a coloratura and none of it was good. Fortunately at one point the lights were all dimmed so as to allow those holding electrical candles to hold them aloft which allowed me to sneak quietly away. I probably will never attempt to sing again. Can you hear the multitudes cheering? The sounds of my stomach echoed between a burbling brook, a menacing growl or maybe a distant moose call. Thus the title: A Burbling Schnook. Fortunately Christmas is almost passed and I have an entire year to redeem myself but it will demand all my will power to ever allow a sound to pass my lips.