Sing. Sing A Song.

One of my new endeavors for this year has been to sign up to participate in the Cast Choir. For those not in the know, every year, Disney hosts a candlelight processional and massed choir program, featuring a celebrity narrator, during the holiday (well, truly, "Christmas") season. It's one of those things that was started by Walt Disney at Disneyland some eons ago; here in Florida the show goes on, three times a night for 5 weeks, Thanksgiving to New Year's. A group of volunteer Cast Members is at the core of the massed choir; most of the singers are from high school and college choruses.

My ex, Marc, had auditioned and was in rehearsals, the year I moved here. I've always said I should do Candlelight "one of these days," and this is my ninth holiday season since moving to Florida.

Auditions are no longer required — you just sign up for a voice part. Once you've attended 10 rehearsals over 10 weeks, you're eligible to perform in the shows.

I signed up casually, just to see if I could make it. I've learned not to share this with others at rehearsal. Some of these people are militant about their participation. I've also learned there are a number of females singing in the tenor section. This is purely numbers-based: there are apparently more altos than there are spaces for altos, so the truly low altos just sign up for tenor. (From Bj's reports, it would seem many of the high altos try for soprano for similar reasons. To a less audibly pleasing effect.)

With all the female tenors, we were told that male tenors would sing Tenor 2 — the lower tenor line. I'm used to singing Tenor 1, especially in traditional Christmas carols. This has taken some adjustment.

This Wednesday, I was amazed at the fervor of the diva sitting next to me (and I don't mean one of the female tenors). Definitely a center-of-attention boy, and clearly a choir veteran, he sang loudly (and, I'll have to admit, in decent voice), even when, despite his prior experience, he wasn't singing the tenor line. In doing so, he often led everyone around him down the wrong-note path. At least he was within the harmonic of the note. (Singer comment: someone asking a neighbor if his vibrato is too much is attention-hungry.)

Unfortunately, my continued participation is in doubt. I signed up mainly for rehearsals held 5:30-7:00 in the evening. The 7:30-9:00 ones just seemed too late, and 5:30 was perfectly timed to wrap up my work at my office just down the road and saunter in on time. But as of today, I am a required participant in a nightly, hour-long conference call, 4:30-5:30, based 15 miles from rehearsal. I'd rather not burn through three times my monthly cell phone minutes on work, so I've got to figure a way out of being on this call every time.