Memories from Touring and the Road

I thought I’d share some of my touring and concert experiences.  Most of a career in singing involves entrances through hotel kitchens, schlepping gear into and out of gigs in 6-inch heels, and hours and hours of singing to people who aren’t listening, don’t care, and wouldn’t notice if I stopped or changed anything.  However, when you love to sing, none of that matters because you don’t need anyone else’s opinion to validate your music, though that is always nice.  This was definitely the case with me.  I loved singing, so I didn’t have to have an audience to enjoy it.  As a young child, I would sing on the water meter in our front yard to anyone or no one going by.  I sang and then I bowed; there was never anyone to hear me but I never cared.  The point is, we shouldn’t go into a career in music for the adulation; we do music because we can’t live without it.  I was blessed to love it and have talent in it, and here are a few of my favorite stories from around the world.

My first professional job and where I, initially, got my Actors’ Equity card, was Theater of the Stars in Atlanta, Georgia.  I actually got that job “by mistake”, though.  At the time, I was attending Georgia State University in Atlanta but I had recently transferred from The University of Georgia about an hour and a half away.  When friends from there came down to audition for TOTS, they suggested I meet them, hang out, and audition myself.  This was a first for me.  The only song I knew was “My Man” from “Funny Girl”, so I brought that and waited.  At some point, the Director, a man named Chris Manos, got up and announced that pretty voices were fine but he was only hiring four men and four women, and he needed power.  Honestly not knowing how the process worked, when it was my turn, I mounted the proscenium stage, and seeing the Director and auditorium filled with follow auditioners, I stood up straight, closed my eyes, and sang.  At some point, I recognized that something was strange; I had been singing much longer than anyone else but I didn’t stop.  I finally finished the entire song and opened my eyes.  Mr. Manos said, “Thank you; come back at 2 o’clock.”  When I got back to my friends, they told me what had happened.  Mr. Manos had said “Thank you,” soon after I began but I was singing so loudly, I didn’t hear him.  Then, he stood up, waving his arms, trying to get my attention, and when he couldn’t, he sat down and allowed me to finish.  That’s how I got my first job and I worked there several years in a row, working with such celebrities as Gene Kelly, Leonard Nimoy, Tommy Tune, and Carol Lawrence.

My second job was at a cabaret show at Six Flags Over Georgia in a place called “The Crystal Pistol.”  I normally sang a solo by Fanny Brice called “Lovey Joe” but on occasions, I would “fill in” for other performers.  On one such occasion, I was covering for a girl we all teased about being very “country”.  She sang “Delta Dawn”, so when I took her place, I pinned in her long hairpiece, “blacked out” one of my teeth, and proceeded do “rock like a chicken” in imitation of her choreography.  The orchestra was in a pit below the stage, looking up at me, watching my performance.  About halfway through the performance, I guess I hadn’t fastened the hairpiece in well enough, and it well off into my hand.  The entire orchestra became hysterical, as did the audience.  Everyone watching thought this was a comedy act and they loved it.  I was horrified but it created a memory I have never forgotten!

In college, our theater company of “Godspell” was invited to perform in Norway under the direction of a famous director from there, Anne Gullestad.  My fondest memories from there include a royal performance that required us to “process” (walk around and around) a large castle room many times with lots of other attendees.  Even more incredible though was traveling to a remote mountain village that could only be reached by train.  There, we were treated to a Norwegian welcome tradition of multiple shots of Aquavit, followed by bowls of fresh, homemade porridge, and finally naps in giant feather mattresses and walks into the crisp mountain air.  The afternoon was amazing, memorable, and unique in every aspect.   

            I performed my own show around the world as well.  I have old video footage singing on the Great Wall of China to bewildered repair workers and then, “sitting in” with a club band in Shanghai.  Learning to ride a moped in Tahiti, I mowed down the sign to Marlon Brando’s famous haunt, “Bloody Mary’s”.  It was on this tour that I then sang at the Sydney Opera House.  Doing my show while cruising on the South China Sea, I, literally, almost fell over because the seas were so choppy.  Crossing the Atlantic Ocean from Puerto Rico to Lisbon, our ship hit a bow wave and broke every piece of glass on the ship.  We had to negotiate around the ship by gripping ropes lining the hallways.  Only those of us with our “sea legs” were able to walk around at all.  Another cruise/performing experience took place in the Caribbean between Cozumel and the Grand Caymans.  I took over for another performer who had become quite inebriated during a shore leave and then, fallen asleep on the beach.  He only awoke when he heard the ship’s horn announcing Sail Away, at which point he dove into the water off the pier, out to the ship, and screamed up, “Beam me up, Captain!”  He was evidently a very popular entertainer but the cruise company could not continue to retain his services after they had to, literally, turn off the ship’s engines to safely get him back aboard.  The fact that he swam strongly enough not to be sucked under by the ship’s enormous engines was miracle enough.  I loved performing on that cruise but got the worst sunburn I ever had in my entire life, such that simply getting my show costume on (spaghetti straps and tight-fitting bodice), was excruciatingly painful in and of itself.  It was like a wonderful paid vacation but there were definitely consequences for foolish behavior.

             In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, I performed at The Westin William Penn.  It was a wonderful, intimate room and I had some great adventures and experiences there.  My car engine froze when the wind-chill factor was negative 65 degrees.  There was wonderful snow but in the morning, my poor, southern car wouldn’t start.  One of the most amazing surprises was getting to sing for Christopher Plummer one night.  He was a total gentleman and very supportive.  My music often served as a vehicle for meeting interesting and fascinating people.  Near Boca Raton, Florida, I did shows for a group of executives called “The Question Club”, where I met Lee Iacocca and Neil Armstrong.  Neil and I became friends and saw each other even after I moved to Southern California.  To round out my favorite locations in the U. S., I, of course, have to talk about New York City.  I’ve gotten to sing at Radio City Music Hall, Lincoln Center, Madison Square Garden, and Carnegie Hall.  However, my all-time favorite place to sing is the San Francisco Opera House.  The acoustics are perfect and they made me feel like I could really sing!

            When I toured with other artists, I got to travel even more.  I sang with Julio Iglesias, Charles Aznavour, Placido Domingo, and Pia Zadora.  Pia had her own custom 727 jets with gold-plated bath fixtures.  The whole orchestra was on one of her planes and I got to sit up front with Pia.  I happen to be wearing a large, “cheap”, fake, “diamond” ring, which Pia saw.  She quickly and genuinely said, “Wow!  I have a ring just like that.”  She quickly ran out of the room and ran back in, tossing a huge, HEAVY, REAL diamond ring of about six carats, into my hands.  I, literally, almost dropped it, I was so frightened by the weight and value of it.  Pia Zadora was a sweet, generous woman but she had so much money, it never occurred to her that I wouldn’t have that much, too.

            Charles Aznavour was a protégé of Edith Piaf and he has mentored so many incredible singers, as well, from Dolly Parton to Liza Minelli.  I sang with him in the States but also, in France and South America.  He was a true artist and I learned something from him every single time we sang together.  I am much taller than he is, especially in heels, so I was staged up-stage of him on a pedestal, which was perfect for the songs we did together.  His writing is intensely emotional and definitely requires acting chops, as well as vocal control.  He is a sensitive, considerate, extremely intelligent gentleman, which was a refreshing change from many other large-ego-ed artists.  In Brazil and Bahia, we traveled with Charles’ all-French band and musical director, Aldo Frank, while being surrounded all day by the public speaking Portuguese.  My French was rusty but my Portuguese was completely non-existent, so I ended most days with a massive headache.  The city of Rio de Janeiro was beautiful but THE most depressing place I have ever been.  There was an entire population of children living in cardboard boxes and sewers, against the unbelievable wealth of places like Ipanema Beach.  However, the most un-earthly, breath-taking beauty I saw in that land was in Bahia.  It is balmy, breezy, intoxicatingly mesmerizing, and so easy to understand how composers like Antonio Carlos Jobim, created the spicy, delicious melodies and rhythms and Latin music, inspired from these locales.

            In Monaco, I performed my own show at the Grand Casino with my favorite musical director of all time, Robert Strickland, and two wonderful dancers, Wayne Lancaster and Greg Mowry.   Robert wrote brilliant charts that translated perfectly to that elegant, European environment.  One of my most precious memories of that show was an Edith Piaf Medley he wrote for me, and a wonderful memory of our time was when I cooked Southern Fried Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, and Brownies for our Stage Director and crew as a going away present.  To end my stay in Monte Carlo, I had saved $50, which I took into the Casino, so I could pretend to be James Bond.  I doubled my money in classic Bond fashion and left with a smile but no vodka martini, shaken or stirred.  Ha! Ha!

            Touring with Julio Iglesias was probably the most elegant, eye-opening, torturous but incredible experience of my life, maybe next to marriage.  It is difficult to pinpoint one or two stand-out performances with Julio because there were so many.  Despite backstage drama, an abscessed tooth, late flights, traffic, and life in general, we never did a performance that did not include both the duets we sang together, even if the entire set was only 2 or 3 songs.  Through Julio, I met both Charles Aznavour and Placido Domingo, as well as many other important people in my life.  However, if I had to narrow my favorites down, they would have to be the first time we performed at the Budokan in Tokyo, historic Osaka, and the atomic bomb locations of Nagasaki and Hiroshima.  I am a very strong American patriot but visiting the Peace Dome and Museum in Hiroshima was truly harrowing and my heart went out to the Japanese people.  The trees of the Peace Park were covered with thousands of white origami cranes fashioned by children and adults who traveled to the park.  You could almost sense the presence of all those lost souls from the end of World War II and it made us all deeply sad.  Julio gave me an amazing gift during this trip, also.  My brother was serving as the U. S. Army Commander on the DMZ in South Korea.  When Julio heard about it, he said, “you make the reservation; I buy the ticket.”  I, not only, got to visit my little brother, I got to visit tunnels cut by the North Koreans; eat in the Korean Mess tent, hearing Julio singing in Spanish over their radio system; and, had to buy a new suitcase to hold all the things I was able to purchase with $100 of American money at the Seoul Open Market.  Touring was an amazing dream come true for this simple, country girl!