There is a story deep within me that simply needs to be told. One I have not been able to share with you, or anyone, until now.
Though the meat of the story took place a few years ago, there is a whole lotta back story that must be relayed first in order to do the story justice.
Let me warn you, it’s a long story. But it’s a good one.
So I’m going to break it up into parts so as to not inundate with too much info at one time (our collective societal ADD brain can only process small spurts of info these days) and also to keep you comin’ back fo’ mo’.
Part 1 of How Wayne Brady and The Secret Conspired to Make Me a Stay At Home Mom
According to Burt Family Legend, I emerged from the womb snapping my fingers.
I danced in diapers, anywhere my toddler legs would take me.
I wanted to be a Mousekateer. Bad.
I hearted musical soundtracks like Grease, A Chorus Line and Fame. Hard.
I sang in hairbrushes and acted a fool. A lot.
I am a lyrics whore. The first thing I do when I like a song is STUDY the lyrics.
I love being on stage, even though it makes me have diarrhea and sweaty arm pits.
The day I discovered Karoake was one of the best days of my life. And one of the drunkest.
After that day I became legendary at the local Karoake bar, The Lamplighter, in so much as they had my picture, three in fact, in the photo collage out front, and the keeper of the karoake would play “my songs” without me having to place them in his glass jar (though I think we all tipped him a lot. Again, it’s all blurry).
In case you’re wondering, my songs are Shoop by Salt N Peppa (G Money joins me in the end for the guy part, it’s good stuff), Proud Mary and Me and Bobby McGee.
So, all the aforementioned things considered, you might be able to guess how I reacted the night I saw a TV PRIME TIME GAME SHOW based on KARAOKE.
Yep. I flipped out! FLIPPED. OUT.
And the rest all happened very quickly.
The time, August of 2007. The place, my monthly drink/book club gathering with the gals. While in the middle of an intense discussion as to which celebrities were on “our lists”, you know the list of celebrities that your spouse would have to grant a “hall pass” for if/when they come knockin’ (JT, you’re on the top of my list, call me), a lifelong friend of mine, Lisa, who also hearts karaoke, asked me, “Mary, do you know how we could win a million dollars?
“How?” I asked.
“We need to go on ‘Don’t Forget the Lyrics,’ the new game show with Wayne Brady.”
A light bulb went off in my head.
We spent the rest of the night singing songs and trying to quiz each other on lyrics to obscure songs.
Later that night, I was sitting on the couch with hubby and he pulled up Don’t Forget the Lyrics (DFTL) on the dvr.
I began singing along with every song and knew every lyric that came in question. Every one.
I said, out loud, “I could TOTALLY do this!”
Steve meanwhile was searching on his lap top for more info on the show. He looked up at me and said, “What are you doing this weekend? DFTL is going to be auditioning for their next season this Saturday at a bar in San Diego.”
“No way! I’m there!”
I immediately called Lisa to rope her in too and then promptly went straight to my closet to figure out what to wear.
What does one wear to an audition for the role of herself?
TO BE CONTINUED…