What am I at my age?
 
Sing a song to popularity
By Leonard J. Hansen
Some people can sing. I can't carry a tune in a basket, and admit that I'm envious.
 
Some people can stand up in front of God and everybody and sing the combination of notes and words, even with feeling. With this ability you can sing-along at the corner piano bar, join the choir at church, even sing the National Anthem at the ballpark without having to fudge the highs and lows.
 
It took some creativity on my part to compose lullabies with only a three-note range so I could make some sort of music when walking and carrying my then-infant boys. Every father wants to be able to sing his children to sleep. I'll bet that Ward Cleaver and Herbert Gillis were able to do it in the years before their lives came to television programs. I'll bet that Ozzie Nelson could sing his sons to sleep. Desi Arnaz probably had a problem. He had the vocal range but he couldn't handle the baby and the bongo drum at the same time.
 
But when everyone is standing to sing out "This land is your land, this land is my land...." and the best I can do is try to chime in intermittently - only on the notes I think I can match - I almost feel un-American.
 
Isn't this grounds for being declared underprivileged? Disadvantaged? I'm a social outcast because I am unable to join in on singing anything but Poor Johnny One Note. A discard as early as Boy Scout days and the evening campfire get-togethers.
 
But when my squawks to melodies cause everyone to move away, or the guitarist to shift to another song, I know the feeling of rejection.
 
Now that my two boys have grown to be young men it is fun talking with them about their childhood days. "Remember, Barron, when you had your wooden hammer - you used to call it your tap tap - and you used to keep time to music by hitting the edge of your crib?" Warm, neat, cuddly thoughts like that. I could get misty-eyed - but no more than that because grown men don't cry.
 
"I remember a lot of good things, Dad," Barron says to me. "But - and I don't want to be mean or anything - but why didn't you ever take singing lessons?" "You mean, my lullabies, my....."
 
I had been ready for my three-note crooning, but evidently my son had another appointment. He left quickly.
 
There must be others in this world who can only sing to the piano's black keys in the very middle of the keyboard. I believe we should be recognized for our effort. More music should be written for us. I have four great lullabies which I can commit to sheet music to start the program.
 
With that well underway we can start our campaign for a new National Anthem for everyone - about three notes in range. This can be the first step non-discrimination against those of us who presently have no songs to sing, and no way to sing in polite company.
 
I urge your support for my campaign to have all music start and end in C-sharp and go no higher than E-flat. This must be the new direction for the new dances, love songs and lullabies.
 
Will you join me in a new song?

 

 
Copyright 2002, Len Hansen, All rights reserved
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