When I was in ninth grade our class sang at the High Mass, for funerals, etc. I still remember at least some of the Dies Irae, the Tantum Ergo, Panis Angelicus, etc.
Madame Bullwinkle here, chiming in from the mezzanine of life’s great rehearsal hall. As a longtime alumna of the comeback choir herself (her past is not so much checkered as diversely patterned, like a quilt assembled by committee), Madame knows that throat‑tightened cacophony all too well. There is nothing quite like that moment when one’s vocal cords respond by staging a small but determined mutiny.
Your tale of the lip‑synching cantor, Bill, brought back memories Madame had heroically repressed. She, too, has stood before audience intending to sing and instead produced noises best described as “aspirational.” Solidarity from the soprano‑ish section.
Madame Bullwinkle proposes that you and she adopt—if not as anthems, then at least as mantras—the following:
*Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.
*Success is stumbling from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.* (~Churchill, patron saint of the Back Bench Boys and Girls.)
These have carried Madame through many a musical (and life) misadventure, and she suspects they’d look quite handsome embroidered on a choir robe.
Carry on, Maestro of the M‑squared. Some of us are absolutely killing it in spirit, if not always in pitch. 🍷
Thank you for your words of wisdom! (And sorry that I unleased repressed memories. I hate when that happens!) "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly" would be perfect for my gravestone -- but not anytime soon, I hope. Thanks again for putting a smile on my face. Have a great day!
Dearest Bill, Madame is most gratified that her little mantras brought you a smile, and she assures you that any re‑emerged memories were merely stretching their legs. They do that.
As for your gravestone, Madame insists that such engraving be postponed for many decades. In the meantime, she applauds the merriment and joy you bring to readers of all stripes and religions. A Merry (not to mention good-hearted and articulate) Catholic indeed. 🍷
When I was in ninth grade our class sang at the High Mass, for funerals, etc. I still remember at least some of the Dies Irae, the Tantum Ergo, Panis Angelicus, etc.
Madame Bullwinkle here, chiming in from the mezzanine of life’s great rehearsal hall. As a longtime alumna of the comeback choir herself (her past is not so much checkered as diversely patterned, like a quilt assembled by committee), Madame knows that throat‑tightened cacophony all too well. There is nothing quite like that moment when one’s vocal cords respond by staging a small but determined mutiny.
Your tale of the lip‑synching cantor, Bill, brought back memories Madame had heroically repressed. She, too, has stood before audience intending to sing and instead produced noises best described as “aspirational.” Solidarity from the soprano‑ish section.
Madame Bullwinkle proposes that you and she adopt—if not as anthems, then at least as mantras—the following:
*Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.
*Success is stumbling from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.* (~Churchill, patron saint of the Back Bench Boys and Girls.)
These have carried Madame through many a musical (and life) misadventure, and she suspects they’d look quite handsome embroidered on a choir robe.
Carry on, Maestro of the M‑squared. Some of us are absolutely killing it in spirit, if not always in pitch. 🍷
Thank you for your words of wisdom! (And sorry that I unleased repressed memories. I hate when that happens!) "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly" would be perfect for my gravestone -- but not anytime soon, I hope. Thanks again for putting a smile on my face. Have a great day!
Dearest Bill, Madame is most gratified that her little mantras brought you a smile, and she assures you that any re‑emerged memories were merely stretching their legs. They do that.
As for your gravestone, Madame insists that such engraving be postponed for many decades. In the meantime, she applauds the merriment and joy you bring to readers of all stripes and religions. A Merry (not to mention good-hearted and articulate) Catholic indeed. 🍷