Living Happily Ever After
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Do-Be-Do-Be-Do

Date: January 21, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Do be do be do.” (Frank Sinatra)

Too soon, the final night of the cruise, THE show, was upon me. I was dressed, I was ready to go (well, as ready as I’d ever be—HATING the costume, especially the wig I had to wear; filled with dread at what I was about to do; and unable to do anything but just get it over with.) The good news? I hated the wig so much, I was more focused on that than the fact I had to sing a solo in front of hundreds of strangers!

More good news? I wasn’t alone.

My husband was also in the show, dressed in a tuxedo and hat (looking very handsome, I might add!) to sing a Frank Sinatra song. He was backstage with me, sitting by me as we watched the show on monitors and waited for our call. As many times as I’ve sat in the audience and watched him perform, I confess I’ve wondered what he does backstage . Now I know. He says he sits and reads, but that night he sat and worried about another performer. And it wasn’t even me, it was Garth Brooks! (His brother, my brother-in-law, was singing a Garth Brooks song.) Apparently, the brother bond is stronger than even Madonna.

And before I knew it, my personal escort (the handsome young male dancer from Australia) came for me. They’d told us our escorts would walk us on stage, but instead, mine thrust the mike in my hand, whispered, “Go!” and sent me out into the spotlight alone as my boys (the male dancers in tight, tiny shorts and tight, tiny shirts with sequined “M”s on the front) started busting their moves.

I sang my song. I don’t think I forgot the words, but yet, I don’t have a clue what words I sang. My husband was right about the muscle memory thing though—somehow my mouth sang the words of its own volition, because all I was doing was standing there thinking, “What in the world have I gotten myself into? THIS isn’t what I do. The last time I was on-stage impersonating a pop star and singing for a crowd was 1982! I wonder how much longer this will take? I wonder who is in the crowd? How many people are in the theater? What did I just sing? Who does this type of thing at 44 years old? I must be crazy. I wonder what the male dancers are up to behind me?” and a host of other thoughts.

And then it was done. Over. Relief! I’m pretty sure the audience felt the same way.

That is the tale of my one chance in life to sing with a live band.

And I survived it.

“I’m for whatever gets you through the night.” (Frank Sinatra)

Another totally unexpected adventure in my unexpected life.

You Have To Give A Woman…

Date: January 19, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I am my own experiment. I am my own work of art.” (Madonna)

Apparently, I am too.

Lets just say there has been a lot of “experimenting” (as in a lot of new, unexpected experiences) since 2009. All seeming to take place during karaoke on a cruise ship lately, for some reason. Here’s how the worst one happened:

I remember the karaoke hostess asking if anyone could sing Madonna. I looked around, I was the youngest woman there (and the only blonde) and no one was standing up, so for some reason, I did. I sang my first solo. “Material Girl.” (It must be that it was Madonna. Madonna and Abba are my weakness, haha! A carryover from my 1980s upbringing, I guess.) After I sang I was handed a packet and a MP3 player to practice for a special performance—no wonder no one volunteered!

I worried to my husband, “I can’t sing Madonna to a bunch of people in the karaoke lounge.” He assured me I wouldn’t have to. I would be singing Madonna at the cruise’s final show, on the big stage with the red velvet curtains!

“I can’t do that!” I exclaimed.

“Too late,” he replied. He advised me to memorize the lyrics and practice the song. He told me that up on stage before thousands of people, I’d be nervous and forget everything; that’s why I needed to practice, so my mouth would have “memory” and be able to sing the right words when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing because I was terrified.

Reassuring, to say the least.

“At least you’ll get to sing with a live band, that’s really fun,” he encouraged. “Most people go their whole lives without that opportunity.”

Somehow, I think I would have survived my entire life without the experience, however, you know what they say: ”Opportunity knocks for every man, but you have to give a woman a ring.” (Mae West)

Ring Shopping Part II

Date: September 19, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

It’s funny, the things you forget.

I remember when I had my 4th child, I was a lot more laid back in my preparations for him than I had been for my 1st, 2nd and even my 3rd children! About two weeks before he was due, I looked at my daughter and said, “We’d better get to the store and get some things we need before the baby comes!” She and I got to share in the fun of buying the things we’d need for a baby. We did it in one store, in one shopping trip, and when we got home and had hauled everything in, I was ready.

I had everything I needed for the new arrival. It was my 4th child, I knew what I was doing and after the shopping trip felt completely prepared. Until my daughter, in 5th grade at the time, looked at me and asked, “But Mom, if you have a baby don’t you need…diapers?” I had COMPLETELY forgotten about diapers!

That’s a little how I was with the whole willingness to marry Bachelor #5 thing.

I had finally told him it was time, but I had forgotten, completely, about the engagement/wedding ring portion of the ritual. When Bachelor #5 mentioned it, reminded me about it, I honestly believed I didn’t need a ring. I didn’t want one.

Divorce devastates many people, financially, and I didn’t want to add to anyone’s financial burden. Plus, I’d had a ring the first time I was married. I’d worn it and put my heart, soul, life, love and the finest of all of my efforts into my marriage and my husband, had thought he was doing the same and that we were close to blissfully on track for eternity–and it had ended. Unexpectedly. The icing on the cake of that failure was that not only did the marriage end, but the government took my wedding ring away because it was an “upgrade” (not the original wedding ring) when they seized the assets we’d acquired due to my ex-husband’s participation in a Ponzi scheme.

I didn’t want or need another ring.

But Bachelor #5 insisted. I told him to just go get anything and I’d be fine with it. But Bachelor #5 didn’t want me to “be fine” with it. He wanted me to love my ring, and said he wouldn’t have a clue what I would like or want without my input, and patiently endured the first ring shopping experience in which the only thing I decided was that I hate ring shopping…and I didn’t want a diamond ring.

“We do not know what we want, but we are ready to bite somebody to get it” (Will Rogers)

Ask Bachelor #5. I wasn’t the friendliest, most eager customer the poor sales clerk at the first jewelry store had ever tried to sell a ring to. In less than 10 minutes, in fact, I’m pretty sure it may have been less than five minutes, he stepped away and brought out the big gun: the store manager. An experienced woman. She calmly took over. And I came to a decision.

I wanted a band.

“As good as I am, I’m nothing without my band.” (Steven Tyler)