Quieting the Scruffy Voice

By Joe Rector

I flipped through videos on YouTube the other day, and up pops Jimmy Buffet singing with Zac Brown and Mac McAnally. The trio did a fine rendition of “A Pirate at Forty,” one of my favorite songs of Jimmy’s. After shuffling through several other videos, I found one of “The Midnight Special” from 1972. John Denver hosted the show, and a whole bunch of artists from my youth performed. I was 20 that year, and oh how I sometimes miss those days.

Back in those days, I could carry a tune. After spending three years in the high school choir, madrigals and a barbershop quartet, I wasn’t too bad. Most of the time I sang bass, but on some selections, I was moved to the baritone parts. It made little difference to me because all that mattered was the singing. Many of the best times of my youth were spent in those choral groups, and I made life-long friends. Singers took every occasion possible to sit around and break into parts for a handful of songs.

I kept on singing during my college years. I spent as much time in the music department as I did in the English classrooms. My brothers and their wives and I sang at Dal’s apartment. We even sang at church during a couple of services. One time we sang acapella but started on the wrong note; it was an excruciating time that embarrassed us all.

Any singing I did after college was confined to the car or shower.  During the last years of my teaching career, my voice began to fade. Some say that my problem with reflux had affected my vocal cords. All I know is that I could talk for a while, but my voice would suddenly cut out. Singing was a thing of the past; I was more concerned with making it through the day just teaching classes.

A little over a year ago, I agreed to sing in the church choir for the Christmas cantata. I’m still in the group, even though my voice isn’t strong. I began taking lessons from the director, and those sessions helped some, but not enough to make me great.

Since high school, I’ve wanted to sing in front of people. I was going to major in vocal music in college, but I would have been forced to take advanced French since I’d had two years in high school, even though I struggled to pass those classes. The hard, cold truth is that I don’t have the talent to sing in solos. I can blend in with a choir, but I still hit plenty of “clunkers.”

At this time in my life, my singing is a bit painful to hear. I’ve recorded some voice lessons and can attest to the fact that I am not close to being entertaining. I croak more than I sing. I suppose I should be happy to listen to others who have the “chops” for singing or again return to the shower or car for any attempts at carrying a tune. If I make it to heaven when my time here is done, I’m looking up my favorite singers to ask them if I can hum along as they make beautiful music.