QUARANTINE LIFE: OUTSIDE

 

The rehearsal and  recording of The Southern Maryland Mass Choir in Lexington Park, Maryland that was scheduled April 23-25, 2020 was postponed due to the pandemic.

 

The last time my Vision family were together on stage was February 3, 2020 at Prince George's Community College.

  

I sang at a neighborhood event on February 29, 2020, amid stories swirling about the mysterious virus in China. With our proximity to international airports, I knew it was just a matter of time before Maryland would have its first case.

 

I filled up my gas tank on March 5, 2020, (and didn't go to the gas station again until October). 

Flights to Atlanta to tape "Sunday Best", then to North Carolina for the National Baptist retreat, that was to take place March 17- 20, were cancelled, as were the events.

There was very little singing going on. 

Recording myself for Sunday Best prepped me for the 2020 Covenant House Gala that, too, would be virtual.

Mastering Zoom and being one's own sound, camera, lighting person and make-up artist became the norm. 

Once the shutdown was ordered, all plans that involved singing were shut down, too. 

Early in the pandemic, singing wasn't exactly high on the list of safe things to do. Stories of singers and choirs being ravaged by covid facilitated a pivot to other things. All of 2021 was dedicated to painting. Not until October did I consent to sing in person. Open Door Baptist Church's covid policies put me at ease, but I wasn't eager to resume singing in public. I participated in a virtual event for my cousin Lisa, and The Michael Colyar Morning Show, but the thought of singing became less and less attractive, and more and more anxiety inducing. 

I thought, perhaps, I'd feel better once I'd been vaccinated. Funny, but the first dose in April 2021 and the second in May didn't inspire me to venture out any more than I had before. 

2022 brought more grief and loss. I agreed to sing at two funerals in January, and one in March. 

A neighbor celebrated her birthday in April, and had a party on her sun porch. It was nice to sit outside, and singing felt safe. 

On May 18, 2022, I got my booster shot. 

An outdoor, rooftop Juneteenth event at the Center on Budget and Policy was a shot in the arm. I don't think I'd sat in the Sun like that in a long time---and I felt like singing. 

An unexpected call from another friend landed me at Nineteenth Street Baptist Church for its Juneteenth event where I sang "Lift Ev'ry Voice". Elementary school instilled the requirement of singing all three verses--and I felt like singing again. 

It was encouraging because I thought back on all of the opportunities I'd declined in 2020 and 2021. I don't regret saying no, because, although I missed singing, I simply still wasn't comfortable yet.

When John Tillery called about the new recording date, I told him I'd think about it. I thought for about two minutes. I'm glad I said yes. It was wonderful to hear live music.

I laughed when I thought about this weekend. It reminded me of what Cy Hudgins said to his goat after he'd wandered off in Mayberry, gotten into a shed, and chewed on sticks of explosives: 

"Eatin' dynamite. Now ain't that the way it always is? First time he comes into town he figures he's got to do everything."

I drove to Lexington Park (and a wonderfully peaceful, scenic drive it was), attended the rehearsal and soundcheck, saw old friends, made new ones (and may have met a Louisiana cousin), and had my makeup done (by a talented and conscientious artist named Iris McCarthy). wore heels, I stayed at a hotel and had a wonderful meal with friends inside a restaurant for the first time since 2020. I took advantage of the $4.55 per gallon sign at WAWA and filled up.

Am I tired? Yeah, but in a good way. 

This weekend has been "dynamite" so far.