Rabble

The Gift of Song

We all have our own gifts. I've come to believe one of mine is the gift of song.

A lot of people on both sides of my family are beautiful singers and/or musicians. I never got to meet my Grandpa Dave, but my mom tells me he was a real good singer, and a boss at guitar, bass, banjo, drums, piano, accordion, saxophone, fiddle, and harmonica. Woah, that was a mouthful.

Drunken jam sessions with family and close family friends have been reoccurring events throughout my childhood. They mainly consist of 60s-90s country, modern country (not a lot), some blues and rock and roll. Some of my earliest memories are of my aunt Abby holding me, crooning "This Little Lad of Mine," to ward off my fussing or ease me into sleep.

So it didn't really surprise me when people started telling me that I have a nice singing voice. It's more thin and throaty, maybe even a little haunting when I want it to be. Unfortunately, I have a limited range, but I've come to accept it. Besides, there's always room for improvement. I've even currently been working on my vibrato, and I must admit, I'm getting pretty good. ;)

There are those days when I sound strangely better than usual, and I end up singing for hours. Then there are those other days when everything is completely off I can't sound good no matter how hard I try.

It sounds ungrateful, but sometimes I don't feel very special because there are SO many people who are singers or want to be singers; but oh well. A lot of them sound better than me. I like my casual singing. I feel like if I did it for a living, I would start resenting my gift and it wouldn't be fun anymore.