I remember singing "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" with my mom when I was young, and there's a fantastic home video of me singing it from a kitty pool for my grandmother. I had my first solo in kindergarten, which is when I started garnering a reputation for singing within my school district's music department. I started taking voice and piano lessons in second grade, the voice aspect was more about musical awareness than pedagogy or technique, and made my Bath, Maine debut at The Chocolate Church, yes that is a real place, during an annual event called "Sing! It's Christmas!" I sang "Marshmallow World" with another second grader, let's call her Marge for anonymity's sake, who took voice lessons with my same teacher. Marge was the child of dentists and lawyers, and I was the child of a teacher and a non-profit worker. We rehearsed together with our voice teacher and ate cookies in her kitchen. It was lovely. I don't think I became aware of the income discrepancy until probably middle school, but it was very evident to my mother when we appeared onstage in drastically different outfits.
Marge looked classy and elegant in a silver holiday dress that I have no doubt came from a name brand. I don't know where it came from our how much it cost, but it certainly didn't come from Sears. Her hair was neatly arranged, her shoes matched her dress, she looked like a little winter fairy. I had a rather different idea for concert attire. My mother took me to Sears, and we looked at the slew of holiday dresses. If you've ever been inside a Sears in December, you know that the children's section explodes in reds and greens and whites- everything covered in carnations or snowflakes. Not my dress, nope. Ever the dramatic, I opted for a black dress with a velvet top and gold tulle overlay skirt covered in black flowers on the skirt. I was also quite tall as a child, I am still but now with access to Tall clothing, so nothing every fit me well. Sleeves were always short and skirts never hit the right point on my shins. Then we go to Reny's. If you aren't familiar with the Maine institution that is Reny's, you are really missing out on something wonderful. Reny's sells everything from cheap spices and snacks to Kiens sandals and Eddie Bauer dresses. They have a section full of discount toys and puzzles. They have kitchenware and cleaning supplies. They also have black polyester knit gloves with faux leopard print fur around the cuff. I had to have, of course, because they matched my dress. Well, my seven-year old eye for design thought they matched. The colors were basically the same, and fancy people wear fur cuffs, right? Maybe not.
We arrived at The Chocolate Church, again this is a real place in my hometown, one silver and bright the other...less so. Where her dress was elegant and classic, mine was too small and mostly polyester. I didn't care. I felt fantastic and on top of the world. For all I knew, I was a Disney Princess dressed in black. I was an old school Hollywood star with velvet and leopard print. I honestly can't think of an outfit more suitable for "A Marshmallow World." My mother claims that though I looked gauche next to Marge, I sang my little heart out with more force and accuracy than my stage-partner. I know there is a video somewhere that plays on the local television station every once in a while, but I haven't seen it enough to corroborate her claim. In any case, that performance really launched the both of us down our respective creative paths. Marge is now a successful daytime tv actor, and I am working towards a Masters of Music. When I finally have my first compositional debut, I think I should find some faux leopard print gloves.
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