The Body Remembers, Even When It Resists
The pipes are rusty, the windbag is saggy, and the face doesn’t vibrate the way it used to. I have to touch tone points on my face to nail the pitch and circle my arm over my head to make the high tone flow out. I punch low with my fists to get some grit and punch and sway my hips back and forth, trying to keep from tensing up.
I breathe to the bottom of my diaphragm like a baby and control the air as it comes out with inarticulate words that trip over my now uncoordinated tongue. My throat feels like there is a pillow in it, and I want to just rip my thyroid out.
Warming Up an Old Instrument
I’ve warmed up with mmmmmm’s and hmmmmm’s and buzzing lip arpeggios, pops, and mē, meh, ma, mō, mooooooo, and I couldn’t be any warmer unless you put me in the oven. My throat is scratchy and I want to drink a gallon of warm olive oil just so I can get through one song with the smooth masterful tone of years gone by.
Proof That Time Doesn’t Kill Talent
This is not impossible. I know I can get it back. I saw Tony Bennett croon like the man until the day he died with power and finesse. Stevie Wonder is 74 and still a musical genius. He plays and sings like a 30-year-old. Ann Wilson is still killing it at 75. She is a barracuda.

Photo: Steve Jennings/WireImage
Fear, Image, and the Long Pause
I know I put away my instrument for a while. Uni gave me severe stage fright that I had never experienced before, but I don’t want to be held down by that anymore. My fear of getting on stage and not looking like a slim sleek sexy singer has to go. I am old and fat! I get it. My weight and appearance is a stupid reason to hide away the gift God gave me. I should just say fuck everyone who doesn’t like my look and sing as if no one is looking or listening.
Daily Practice and Looking Ahead
So I’m doing my 30 minutes a day of singing and now I’m on my 30 minutes of writing, so I’m documenting the progress so that a month from now I can look back and say whahhhhh, laaa, laaaa, laaaa, laaaa I’m back bitches!
In a month from now, I want to start going to karaoke with Molly twice a month, singing in front of people, not in a private karaoke room. I hope to help my brother with a musical project he and his band are working on, and I want to jettison the rest of my talent before my star burns out forever.
Staying on Stage Anyway
I don’t know how to overcome my fear of stepping back on stage. Maybe I need to just keep getting on stage and stay there, even if I hear skinny bitches commenting on my looks in the front row. The world is judgy, and people are mean. I have let those whispers make me feel inferior and keep me down. I have buried my talent in fear, and I hope those days are over. I’m determined to find my voice, courage and get my groove back.

