From Karaoke Star to CAMP Rehoboth Chorus Soprano
Three years ago, when I first completed the application to join the CAMP Rehoboth Chorus, I paused at the question about prior vocal experience. I wondered: does singing karaoke in a local bar count?
Flashback 21 years ago. I was somewhat depressed and frayed after a grueling divorce, the demands of single parenthood, and a stressful, frustrating corporate job. My psyche needed a boost.
A friend took me to Sammy’s Karaoke Bar, tucked away in the former Day’s Inn in downtown Wilmington. Although I had never sung anywhere but the shower, a powerful force (or perhaps too many margaritas) pulled me onto the stage, where— shaky hands clutching the mic—I belted out the words flashing on the screen to “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To.” I experienced a rush after the deafening applause, or at least the sound of a few lukewarm hands clapping. I was hooked.
At least once a week for the next year (on the nights when my son visited his dad), I headed for Sammy’s, which featured karaoke six nights a week. I worked my way up to become one of the “regulars,” even created a stage name—“Renee.” I couldn’t resist the lure of the mic, the stage, a full house and an audience soused enough to applaud even the tackiest rendition of “You Light Up My Life,” “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” or “He’s a Rebel.”
I re-invented myself: swapped my conservative corporate suits for somewhat flashier dress—even (heavens!) some outfits with sequins. I paid more attention to my appearance, dropped a few pounds, changed my hair, and, most of all, brightened my outlook. This was such fun! Who knew that inside this ordinary , introverted exterior lurked a budding star?
All week long I rehearsed, experimenting with numbers ranging from Broadway to Motown. I kept a notebook: jotted down songs I wanted to try, songs I had sung well, and songs I vowed to never, ever sing again, especially after discouraging comments like: “keep your day job” or “I used to like that song.”
Country and Western music worked well with my voice. My favorites included Loretta Lynn’s “Don’t Come Home A Drinkin With Lovin On Your Mind.” I also mimicked Tammy Wynette’s whine as she stood by her man, then filed for her “D I V O R C E.” My hammy new Southern twang was not bad for a Brooklyn-born girl of Italian descent.
After a few months of singing, I was primed and ready to enter Sammy’s karaoke regional (read: Wilmington and surrounding area) contest. On the big night, I faced some stiff competition (names have been changed to preserve the singer’s dignity): Among them:
Howie, whose boozy and rambling “Strangers in the Night” made me wish he was one.
Ralph, with a too-small toupee and a big ego, who crooned his signature song, “Pretty Woman.”
DeeDee, who wowed the audience with “I Got You Babe,” singing both Sonny and Cher’s parts.
And bouncy Melody, who showed up with props. As she crooned “Surfin’ USA,” she tossed beach balls into the audience. Whether you were amused or annoyed depended upon her shot.
Me? I was dolled up in a blond wig, and a pink, polyester housedress (courtesy of a local thrift store). After many, many hours of rehearsal in my living room with a spatula serving as my mic, I performed Tammy Wynette’s “Your Good Girl’s Gonna Go Bad.” As the song came to a close, I discarded my housedress to reveal a sultry black number underneath. I won third place singing my heart out with words like: “I’ll even learn to like the taste of whiskey. In fact, you’ll hardly recognize your wife. …I’ll buy some brand new clothes and dress up fancy, for my journey to the wilder side of life.”
Sadly, that “wilder” side of my life came to an end when Sammy’s closed a year later. I wasn’t as comfortable singing in the other karaoke bars that began to proliferate in the Wilmington area. Some years later, I remarried. My new (and current) husband taught elementary school music, played the oboe and patronized the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Delaware Symphony. I learned to appreciate classical music.
But I’ll always have Sammy’s, and that brief, shining moment when I was “Renee,” the karaoke star.
I fill in the blank on the CAMP Rehoboth Chorus application: “Vocal experience: I sang karaoke a long time ago.”
CAMP Rehoboth members Irene Fick, with her husband, Ed have sung in the CAMP Rehoboth Chorus since Fall 2010. They look forward to participating in the Chorus’ annual performance, “Oh! What A Night–Back to the ‘50s and ‘60s” on February 8.