Other people must think I’m a grown up or something. I’ve been invited to a couple of dinner auctions in the last year. We were invited to one for Choral Arts tonight by one of the primary organizers. Emma was feeling unwell, so I went by myself.

I flat out made a donation and bought some raffle tickets. I also won two modest items in the auction, tickets for Arts West and five voice lessons.

I have little natural aptitude for music. I found it difficult to keep time on a triangle in the class “orches­tra” when I was a kid. Songs and music don’t stick in my head. I might—might—rec­og­nize a piece, but I can’t summon it up. Most of all, I have a big hangup about singing. When I was twelve, I was told that I shouldn’t sing with the class and I’ve hardly sung since.

My brother David is a pro­fes­sion­al actor who has con­cen­trat­ed on singing in the last year. I’ve meant to take singing lessons for some time. If David can learn to sing, I can learn to croak.