It was supposed to be an uplifting day singing the National Anthem on live radio to support Relay For Life. It was supposed to run smoothly. But if your name is Tyrolin Puxty (and I assume it isn’t), very few things run smoothly. Maybe things go awry to help aid my writing stories, because otherwise I’d be a rather boring person.
It was a bad omen when the rain woke me at 8.00am on Saturday morning. I usually love the rain but lately I’ve been cheating on it with the sun. The sun and I now have a special bond as it has given me a very subtle and natural tan – my first in seven years.
So, the rain was mad because it found out about my love affair. I slid on jeans, shirt and coat and opened my door and…nope. Couldn’t open my door. The doorknob was in my hand and my hand was near my face.us
I was imprisoned in my room.
I should have taken that as a sign to just stay home. I mean, my door was trying to protect me – obviously. Instead, I called out to the others in the house like a wailing kitten trapped in a pantry, as mine so often are.
I escaped the confines of my room, skipped breakfast and made my way to Relay For Life.
It started to pour. The microphones kept making static noises because of the storm. I looked at the stage and turned to my boyfriend. “I will forewarn you right now – I’m not going to stuff up, but the equipment will.”
(For those who haven’t read my entry “Very Mild Superpowers”, now would be a good time).
“No way!” he said. “You’ll be great!”
At that very moment, Ave Mary A by Pink started playing on the system. I sighed. This was the third and final bad omen.
“The amps will stuff up,” I explained as I listened to the heavy bass of the song. “Trust me. Ave Mary A is playing. This isn’t a coincidence. Barely anyone knows about this song! I hate it because I sang it in public twice. And both times, the foldback stuffed up. This is a sign and it’s warning me that it will stuff up again!”
Nonetheless, I walked onto the stage. There was no real sound check, but I wasn’t concerned. I wasn’t nervous or stressed or embarrassed. If something was going to go wrong, there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
Soon enough, the National Anthem came on. My voice, still husky from the early morning, sang; “Australians all let us rejoice for we are young and free. With golden soil and weal – ”
EEERRRGHGGHGHGHGHGHGHO—squeeeeeeak – EEERRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOGH.
Yeah, bet that’s painful to read. It’s even more painful to listen to. Suddenly, the song which was supposed to go for 70 seconds skipped to the last 10 seconds of the song. I panicked and sang the wrong line and ended with “Advance Australia Fair!” Somehow, a 70 second song managed to get condensed into 15 seconds.
To ensure that people didn’t think I was an unpatriotic imbecile, I said: “Sorry! It made a noise and I didn’t know what I was up to!”
I was only told after the fact that it aired on live radio and that people listening to the station didn’t hear the pleasant sound that ruined everything. They said it just sounded like I forgot the words. Awesome.
In the words of Ned Flanders, “Son of a Diddly”. Son of a Diddly indeed, Ned.
I really should have sang the anthem to the tune of the Pokemon Theme. Seriously, YouTube it. It’s strangely empowering.
I get the strong feeling I won’t be asked back. But despite the kafuffle, I’m proud of everyone who participated in Relay for Life and I hope that I gave people a laugh during a serious day. Sure, there will be some who listened on the radio who will be complaining – to which I say, move on – but mistakes happen and there are only so many mistakes we can rectify on live broadcasting.
Just be thankful I didn’t start twerking.