In college, as I think I said, I did not join any vocal groups. But my junior year I roomed with Chuck Rogers, who has become a life-long friend, and he had/has a very fine tenor voice.
I had a guitar, which I could sort of play.
We tried singing some folk songs together (it was the mid-1960s), and I was able to harmonize with him. We learned a bunch of songs—Kingston Trio; the Brothers Four; Peter, Paul, and Mary—that sort of thing.
We got to feel pretty good about what we were doing and performed here and there around the campus. People seemed to like our sound.
We took jobs one subsequent summer out at a boys’ camp on upstate NY’s Lake Paradox—Camp Paradox (RIP). Some years ago Joyce and I drove up there: totally gone—no sign of its former presence.
Anyway we rehearsed a lot up there and on a day off drove down to NYC to audition for Ted Mack’s Original Amateur Hour, a long-running show on both radio and TV (1934-1970). (Link to info about the show.) It was kind of a poor man’s America’s Got Talent.
We entered the audition room—something like a dance studio (wooden floors, etc.) which held but a bored looking guy on a piano and a judge.
We did a couple of songs, then drove back to Paradox.
Heard nothing, and after the camp was over we drove back to Ohio. Chuck was about to head off to grad school (psych, U of Wyoming; I, to the Aurora Middle School to continue my teaching career).
Then one day that fall, I got a letter from Chuck, a letter which included a date we were to appear on the show! But the date had passed: The letter had chased him around, eventually found him in Wyoming. Too late.
Sigh.
For me, it was probably a good thing: My playing was simple; my vocals, passable.
I realized I probably would have bombed like an Air Force B-52.
Every now and then Chuck has tried to lure me out of retirement (class reunions and things), but I’ve always declined. I’d rather remember when I thought I was adequate than discover that I’m not.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
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