A fourth of July Eeeeeeep moment!!

Babeeee, yoooou,, got what I neeeed!

But you say you're just a friend,
But you say you're just a friend!!

Lean on meeeeee, when you're not stroooong,,
I'll be your friend!!
I'll help you carry on!!

You lost that loving feeeeling, whoa that lovin' feeling!

My father was a singing Evangelist. I swear he had a boombox surgically placed in his body because the voice that came out of this rail thin man could shake any walls down. Pure and strong, you could feel every emotion flowing through him.

I was outed as a singer while doing my best Annie impression of "Tomorrow" in my room one night. The door flew open and my dad stood in the doorway, staring at me with saucer sized eyes.

"Do it again"

"Do WHAT again, Dad"

"Sing!"

And that was that. I was pulled into the world of music that I love so much with the man I idolized. We went to many types of places and sang in front of a lot of people. Schools, Prisons, Churches, Malls, Hospitals, the streets, a roof, wherever we could plug in our meager equipment, we would perform.

You can't see me now!

I was shy (can you believe that?). I would always feel physically ill before I performed. My dad had a way of calming me. Even still before every song I had to get a nervous little cough out, I didn't mean to, it just always happened, and he ALWAYS laughed at me. He would even choreograph his own little nervous cough in perfect unison with mine. Yep, that's my dad.

I remember one time there was this super hot church boy sitting in the front row, I love me some super hot church boys!! I felt myself flush when he looked at me. How was I supposed to sing NOW????? I went up and my voice cracked. And what did this genius rookie performer do? I turned around and faced the wall, my back to the audience. My dad was mortified, but humored. He asked me during the break what had happened and we had a conversation about how he had better not embarrass me this time!!!!

"Do you really want this boy looking at your rear in THAT skirt???"

"Watsamatta with my skirt??!!"

"Oh, nothing,, it just looks so much cuter from the front."

I finished the set facing the audience with the cute side of my skirt.

Dad always wanted me to sing country. He said that was where my vocal talents lay. He taught me vibretti (as he called it), and a serious course in "brangin' the twang" to a song!!! The twangy-er I could sing a country song, the better, he would rave over my southern drawl. I would continuously bribe him with twang even though I did kinda enjoy singing like that (shhhhh).

"I'll sing THAT twang if you'll let me sing this POP song."

"How twangy?"

"You'll think I drank sweet tea instead of formula as a baby"

I got to sing my pop songs, but never as well as I sang his country ones. I always knew he was right, but we both found out later that the raspy bluesy-rock was where I really fit in. And he loved that even more.

One of our favorite places to sing was in nursing homes. We would frequent the same ones and I had adoptive Grandparents and pockets full of star mints every weekend (not sure why all older people do the peppermint thing, but I love that memory). It was a rough lesson as a kid though to run back a few weeks later to a "grandparents" room and find that they had passed away. But I would remember the stories and laughter and the pure joy I could see in their eyes with just these little visits, and I would adopt more. I met and lost some amazing people there.

We had a spectacular show planned on the Fourth of July for our favorite nursing home. A showcase of southern twang and majestic patriotic display. We even brought a large "flag" sheet cake for the residents. My dad had bought a lot of sparklers as well. The plan was to turn the lights off, walk in singing patriotically and carrying this cake with sparklers dancing on top.

It was certainly received well. The residents that could stand, stood and placed their hands on their hearts smiling proudly and singing along. The ones who couldn't stand, still saluted and clapped for the grand spectacle.

We got the cake to the table set it down just as the sparklers burst out from a happy sparkly performance to a full grown fireball.

Image may be slightly exaggerated

The room filled with black smoke, the elderly STILL saluting and singing were now being ushered frantically to the hallway while punch was being poured on the cake and the sprinkler system popped from the ceiling.

There were many little screams and a lot of rolling laughter from the safe residents in the hall.

I don't think 20 cheap sparklers on a sheet cake is such a great idea any more.

Do you agree?