Too many, so I picked one.

I’m truly thankful for my mother. From an early age I wanted to entertain. My mother must have noticed because she started a progression. First it was “movement classes” and dance lessons, then taking me to auditions. Guitar and piano lessons followed, along came voice lessons, and at thirteen I discovered, “The Opera.”

At that age I was also into 70’s rock and at night, along with my friends, we shouted “Disco sucks,” “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Boston, and ZZ Top!”

But by day, what a wonderful thing, to sing, beautiful classical music in a grand auditorium along with a cast who understood our type, notes written perfectly by meticulous composers, played by tuxedoed musicians with poignant librettos that spoke of lost love and heartache, torment, or the undying passion never fulfilled by not finding the one our hearts could adore. I close my eyes today and see the costumed courts and feel movement surrounding me, hear once again our voices in unison, the harmonies, acoustics bouncing from the interior walls, glorious tones that reached far into the rafters and back to the ears that loved each and every pitch, and the reaction from the darkness, the audience that would stir my soul.

Thanks mom, acting and singing together was the shit.

Actually, I think I did do that, in my pants, when I heard Queen’s, “Bohemian Rhapsody.”