All I wanted was a map.

We were at Hollywood Studios and I went over to a small kiosk that looked like it might have maps.

“HI!!” said the overenthusiastic employee by the kiosk.  “Are you ready to try the American Idol Experience?????”

Not really,” I replied.  “I just need a map.”

“It only takes a few minutes!!!!!! It’s really fun!!!!!!”

Ah . . . no.  We have Fastpass tickets and we wouldn’t want to miss our time.

“That is NOT a problem.  If you make it through, I can fix you up.  I have connections!!!!!”

Okay, let’s stop.  The American Idol Experience is an attraction where you go in and pretend you are auditioning for American Idol.  If you make it through the first audition, you get to sing karaoke at a stage show.  If you make it to the finale and win, you win a ticket to the real auditions at American Idol.  I am too old to audition for the real American Idol.  I’m not being self deprecating.  There is an age limit and I am over it.

So, I said . . . “Well,no.  I am really just an average mommy singer.

“OKAY!” said kiosk man.  “CLEARLY, you are not average.  I can tell that just by looking at you!!!! And besides you are a mother and that makes you AMAZING, BUT!!!!!!!! What you said was, ‘I am just an average mommy SINGER!!!!!!!!‘”

And that, friends and loved ones, was how I found myself singing “Hey, Good Looking” to a very pleasant woman in small room.

Look, my friends.  I will tear it up given the chance to sing inside my comfort zone.  Auditions are not in my comfort zone.  I have blown nearly every actual singing audition I have been in and only got the part a couple of times because the person casting knew I could do better.

“OKAY!!!!!!!,” she said.  “You have a lovely voice, a very very lovely voice . . . but you’re holding back on me.  Do it again and don’t hold back!!”

Ah . . . okay.  You see all I wanted was a map. (deep breath) HEY, GOOD LOOKIN’ . . .

“SUCH a lovely, lovely voice.  Truly lovely.  You’re still holding back.  No, I ‘m not going to put you through.”

And that was how I found myself sitting outside the audition building — and this is where it gets confusing — I was a little mad at myself for not being braver and belting it out more.  I told you.  I am a terrible singing audition.

D was with me and I figured we’d be sitting there all day while Brent went through his audition and on to the the final round.

. . . but no, a few minutes later he came out.

What happened?” I cried.

“He said he really loved what I was doing, but all the songs were too high for me.”

And there you go, kids.  It is an aggressively loud, tenor world.  What are you going to do?


One thought on “Rejected

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