“I’m with the band”—The one phrase I never thought I’d say in my life

That centuries-old adage is true: Drunken words are just sober thoughts. A couple of months ago, I went to my friend Jeff’s band play at a Mexican restaurant in Burtonsville. Even before I got there, I knew it was going to be a solid night. The promise of Coronas and good rock music enticed me. I got their early and started immediately on one of my enticements-Corona. And kept enjoying. I was nursing a healthy buzz and a raging hard on for live music by the time Over Socialized hit the stage.

I remember them playing all of my favorite songs and since I am an phenomenal singer using a salt shaker as a microphone, I decided to sing along. One song would change everything. Jeff and Cliff started to play one of my favorites, the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army”. Those of you who know me super well will recall me singing the shit out of it on Rock Band, in the shower and while jumping on my bed into a hair brush. I’m pretty badass. Anyways, when the band had finished their set, I went up to Jeff and with the confidence of a pack of lions and six pack of beer, told him I wanted to sing that song at their next gig. Lo and behold, about two weeks ago, I get a Facebook message from Jeff asking me if I was serious because they have a show in the beginning of June.

Let’s pause for a second here. I have a pretty terrible voice. While I certainly have other lovely genetic gifts, my parents plagued me with bad vocal genes on both sides of the family. I come from a dynasty of Rabbis, not chazzanim. Still, I love music. I’ve always wanted to be a big singer in my dreams because I’m always singing, despite the protests of everyone. This is probably the best, least pressure way to do part of my dream.  So I said yes.

I had my first band practice on Tuesday and was greeted with the most chivalrous way by Cliff—a shot of whiskey., I was also greeted by multiple sexy pin-up girls on the wall. Not a bad place. We all made our way down to the basement and it looked just how I envisioned a typical band practice to look—drums, basses, guitars and a hot poster of Carmen Electra.

I’m kind of a newbie when it comes to this stuff, so imagine my thrill when I saw more than one amp in a room. I’ve never even sung into a real microphone like this before, except at karaoke. I was a bit nervous at first, but after working out timing and things like breaks and riffs (new words for me), I got the hang of it. I can’t really change my key ever, besides the fact I think going higher means getting louder. I lose my keys all the time in real life. Actually, my singing is a lot like my driving—out of control, hazardous to others, but ultimately hasn’t killed anyone, yet.

We jammed for a couple more hours, and I had a blast. I found that my knowledge of random Beatles lyrics didn’t let me down, and I might be singing in other songs than my White Stripes anthem. You won’t get spoilers from me! I enjoyed my halfsie of whiskey but really enjoyed the fact that I was rocking out, for real, with cool guys. I’m inviting you all to come out and see me, June 3^rd at Chapala’s in Burtonsville.  The Facebook event is below. Plus, I’ll probably be buying rounds for everyone because if you’re drunk, I’ll sound that much better. Maybe I’ll try out for American Idol after this. You do know how much I love Ryan Seacrest!

https://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=224959614188166