Post #300...or...Haters

Haters. Haters are people who have dissed my home football team since I was a kid. Haters do not even bother to roll their eyes when my team loses, because this is the norm. Haters expect the worst and most of the time, gloat if it comes to pass.

Haters got schooled on Sunday night by my boys, the New Orleans Saints. That's right - the Saints are going to the Superbowl! GEAUX SAINTS!

There are lots of other kinds of haters out there, and I encountered some of them this past Sunday afternoon as well. The people who will try to disrupt your peace (do you see the iPod in my ear? it means I don't want to talk), the people who will try to steal your sunshine (what did you sing? do you think it went well? were you nervous?), the people who will try to rain on your parade (did you think the hall was good? I didn't think the hall was very good. I don't know how anyone could sound good in there), and the people who will fill the air with such garbage so as to divert attention from their own inadequacies (omigosh, did you see what she's wearing? what a nightmare. did he really start with that aria? ugh). Now y'all know that I have my opinions about how people dress for professional occasions (spanx and a full-length mirror are REQUIRED) and whether or not they are ready for certain repertoire (Tosca at 22? I don't think so.) but when I'm in the zone for a competition, I try very VERY hard to keep it all above the line. You never know who is listening or watching, and you don't want someone to mess with your game. Hence the iPod. I plug myself in and read tips about organizing my kitchen to block out the stream of chatter that would otherwise distract me from my business. What is my business? Singing is my business.

Which is why I have decided to give the finger to all the Haters. There was one particular Hater who went so far as to tell me, in great detail, what she did not like about my voice. Not my singing, not my musicianship, not my presentation, my voice. That thing that comes out of my body, just as the good Lord made it. That instrument that cannot be swapped out or exchanged. I have very VERY strong opinions about this. You can tell me about the stuff I can change (my dress, my hair, my shoes, my language skills, my stage presence, my acting, my body movement, my understanding of style and nuance) and you can tell me about the issues you think I might have with my technique (breath control, vibrato, vowel shape, legato, coloratura cleanliness) but when you start giving me your personal opinion of my personal voice, I start to wonder why you're doing what you're doing. Is this about how tough my skin is and whether or not I can take the criticism, no the downright MEAN-SPIRITED sentiment as you tell me that my voice is harsh and strident and monochromatic, a voice you wouldn't want to listen to for extended periods of time. That works out well for you, because it means I won't offer you comp tickets to my next performance.

Constructive criticism. You know it when you hear it because you can feel yourself learning something. You can sense that someone wants you to grow. All I sensed was that this person hates my voice and wanted to let me know. Super. Why don't you get me a nice paper cut and pour some lemon juice on it.

What do we learn from this, you might ask. I learn that my skin is thick, but not yet thick enough. I learn that I should not seek validation from the opinions of others. I learn that I cannot determine my value as a performer based on three judges' disagreement (that's right, the other 2 thought I was good) on my performance. In short - finger to the Haters. GEAUX SAINTS.