The big five-oh

Also during that same year, I turn 50.  Bill and I decide to hold a party, so we rent a function room at a local pub.

I consider what I will say in my speech.  What I'd really like to do is to sing something.  I'm starting to feel more confident, and what's the point of having a skill if you never expose it to anyone?

Yes, I'd like to do a singing speech.  I've got backing tracks.  So I scour my collection to see which songs might work.  They need to be in the right key and they need to be songs that I can sing well.  I've never performed with backing tracks, but why not?  I've got all these discs; I should use them.

I settle on "History Repeating", as I've performed it before, and the backing is very lush.  Paging through my books, I hit upon "Cabaret".  I've never sung it before, but it would be a great song for turning 50.  "Start by admitting from cradle to tomb, it isn't that long a stay...Life is a cabaret old chum, and I love a cabaret!"

It's a big song, and some of the phrases are a bit high for me.  But suppose I had someone to sing it with me?

My friend Victoria is a singer.  She agrees to the plan, but only if we do plenty of practice beforehand, and also obtain some advice from her singing teacher.  So the two of us attend her singing lesson together once a week, for several weeks before the event.  Her teacher, Alison, helps us to divide up the song according to our respective vocal strengths.  It works well because Victoria is a soprano and I'm an alto.  She gets the high bits; I get the low bits.  We start to feel pretty good about the song.

Then there is the issue of movement.  We can't just stand there stiffly and sing.  So Victoria's daughter Genevieve choreographs us.  She gives us some simple moves and creates a slightly comic routine that plays on the fact that there's a six-inch difference in height between the two of us.  We practise in Victoria's lounge room, with Genevieve filming us on her phone so we'll remember the moves.

I hire a sort of karaoke machine; it's an all-in-one CD player, speaker and mic system.  It comes with two wireless microphones and it's reasonably portable.

I also hire a small stage and arrange for it to be delivered to the venue on the morning of the party.  We're expecting about 80 guests, and if we are on the same level, they won't be able to see us.

I've ordered a large birthday cake from the local bakery, and on the day of the party I collect it and take it to the venue, where they have space to store it in their fridge.

The day passes quickly, and we arrive at the pub in time for a quick run-through.  I'm wearing a fully-sequinned, silver mini-dress.  It's my party, and I'll sparkle if I want to.

It's not long before the guests start to arrive, in a seemingly endless stream.  The room quickly fills, and I do my best to circulate and talk to everyone.  Then, suddenly it's time for the speeches.

Bill gets everyone's attention and makes a short speech, then introduces me.  I thank everyone for coming, then talk about how, when you reach the age of 50, you start to see the same fashions coming around again, and how bands from your youth start making come-back tours; in short, you find that history is repeating.

Cue music - and I'm about to dive head-first into what I thought was a good idea, but is starting to feel like a Kamikaze plan, as I survey the faces of the assembled guests.  I'm standing on this tiny stage all by myself with a microphone, and they are all looking at me.  I start to sing, and I also begin to pace up and down the stage; why?  I'm not sure where to look - why are they all looking at me?  No one is reacting; but what sort of reaction did I expect?  Suddenly the song is over, and everyone applauds.

Then I call Victoria up on stage, and introduce her with some light banter.  I want to get her talking into the mic in order to settle her down before we perform.  The music starts and we're on.  By now the audience has got over the shock and is warming to the performance.  We know what we're doing; the practice is paying off.  We relax and enjoy our few minutes in the limelight.

My big moment comes when I sing "I made my mind up back in Chelsea; when I go, I'm goin' like Elsie!"  What a great line.  What a great song about living life to the full.  What a great night.

Again, lots of applause and now we are done; now we can relax for the rest of the evening.

A friend tells me later that when I began to sing, people started murmuring "She can actually sing".  Well, I'm glad they thought so.

Now looking back, I know that I did not sing well that night compared with the way I sing now.  But it's all a journey.  You have to make a start or you will remain where you are.