The house where I spent part of my childhood had a fireplace that shared a wall in our kitchen and living room. On the living room side was a raised hearth with a mantle over it. One day while playing I realized this sort of resembled our choir loft in church. I was immediately intrigued. I grabbed the hymnal from our piano and began to sing whatever songs I could remember. Since I couldn’t read the hymnal was a mere prop, but I was convinced my audience would never know the difference.
At some point while I was playing choir I looked down and realized there was a pull c
hain on the fireplace screen that looked like a microphone. From that moment on I was through with choir and was immediately working on my solo career. Sometimes I would even drag my record player out to accompany me in my concerts.
As I got older and taller my head started hitting the mantle and it took some of the fun out of it for me. So I did what any good big sister would do and tried to pass my gift of the stage onto my little sister. However, she never took to performing or enjoyed the audience quite like I did.
