(Last night, I had an attack of conscience. I mean, I can’t very well tell tales on the rest of my family and spare myself, right? That being the case, I decided I’d bite the bullet and get this one out of the way. It’s a family favorite.)
If I’m going to be honest – and I’m going to try – what my family always said about me was true. I was a little ham, a center-of-attention wannabe, a budding starlet in my own mind. Dad often called me “Sarah Bernhardt,” due to a pronounced tendency to be a wee bit melodramatic. I was also the self-appointed director of many family movies, which may explain the fact that, more often than not, I “coincidentally” wound up center stage. I sang to captive family audiences, “screen wrote” and staged almost all of our childhood pretending. Curtains up, light the lights or give me the least sign of encouragement, and I was on.
I guess I also had a little Milton Berle in me, because I tended to filch good business wherever I found it. Take that throaty growl Johnny Horton used when he sang, “Remember, Sam, a true love is so hard to find.” (That’s from the song “North to Alaska,” for those of you who didn’t pick up on it right away.) I also seem to remember a spirited rendition of the song “Steam Heat,” performed in a towel sarong and featuring a hip swivel I picked up from Marilyn Monroe. (Of course, the fact that I was about 5 years old at the time put a damper on both steam and heat.)
Enter Mitch Miller.
Now, you know you’re getting up there in years when you have to interrupt the flow of a perfectly good story to explain your references, because most of the people reading the story are too young to get them. Nevertheless, I press on.
Mitch directed a 36-man chorus. His television show, Sing Along with Mitch, was a family favorite. As you might have guessed from the title, after a rousing half-hour or so of song, Mitch would turn to the camera, smile, spread his arms in invitation and crow, “Everybody sing!” Then, we at home would “follow the bouncing ball” to join Mitch and his crew in lusty song.
Now all this–my love of performing, my tendency to borrow material and Mitch Miller’s TV show – would have been well and good and harmless … if my elementary school hadn’t decided to stage an evening of song. I was in second grade, but I remember that night like it was yesterday.
We had rehearsed for weeks, and we were confident, maybe even cocky. (Or possibly, I was the only cocky one.) I knew my lines, had the melodies down pat. I would be standing in the front row. I don’t remember if my dress was new, but it was cute as all get-out. What more could a seasoned performer like myself ask?
We sang flawlessly. I mean, we were good. The audience was spellbound, awed by our vocal prowess … and the fact that nobody fell off the risers. Giddy with success, I waited for the last song, my favorite, The Marine Corps Hymn.
That’s when it happend.
Mr. Hart, our principle and conductor, turned to us and murmured, “Don’t leave right after we finish the song. We’re going to ask the audience to sing along, then we’ll sing it again.”
My breath caught. Oh. My. Gosh. I COULD DO THIS! I KNEW EXACTLY HOW TO DO THIS! HADN’T I SEEN MITCH DO IT A HUNDRED TIMES? AND NOW I WAS GOING TO GET MY CHANCE! My little heart raced in anticipation. I don’t think I was even conscious of singing that stirring melody through the first time; I was that intent on not missing my cue or blowing my line.
The song ended with a rousing, “United States Mariiiiiiines!” Applause. Thunderous applause. I waited, knowing you had to let the applause die down first. The second it did, I stepped out front, swept wide my arms and crowed, “Everybody sing!”
I crowed well and with gusto … but I crowed alone.
You know, historians blame the ill-fated charge of the Light Brigade on a poorly written order.
Now, I no longer hold it against Mr. Hart–it was really very nice of him to come out to the car to try to comfort me afterwards–but he could have been a little more precise with his instructions. He could, for example, have said, “After we finish the song, I will ask everyone to sing with us.”
And some people say grammar isn’t important!
