I believe all of us like to sing, or would like to sing. Be it on stage at a concert venue, in a church choir or maybe in a city park where passer byes clap and give you the thumbs-up. Then there are those that are just happy singing in the shower.

That’s where I sing, in the shower. I use the noise of the water for background and to mask any imperfections. I have been doing it for years, once the water hits me I automatically begin singing. I sing old Beatles tunes, Willie Nelson, Neil Diamond and I get a big kick out of trying Billy Joel’s ‘Piano Man’. I never considered myself a great singer. My wife showers me with praise, compliments and kudos when I emerge from the bathroom by saying things like, “ You could make money singing.” I laugh and go on about my day.

It is a warm day, after operating my backhoe accompanied by occasional hand shoveling the first thing I do when I get home is jump in the shower. My vocal cords burst out with Piano Man again. Well, I’m concentrating on getting clean by soaping up, scrubbing and rinsing off. My wife arrives home from her work while I’m in the shower, she listens outside the bathroom door for a couple of minutes.

Jill is prepping dinner while enjoying a glass of wine. I enter the kitchen in my sweat pants and a teeshirt and go in for a (after work, glad you are home, nice to see you) kiss. After the kiss she pulls her head back while still holding on.

“You were listening to Piano Man instead of singing it yourself? Since when do you take a radio in the bathroom or did you finally buy yourself a Smart Phone? I could hear piano. I know the water was running but I know what I heard.”

“No, just me, no radio, no cell phone, no piano.” I say with a puzzled look on my face. “You could hear piano? Maybe the neighbors have music on.”

“No, I checked that, and the piano stopped when you stopped singing.” Jill replied.

“All I can say is I could hear a piano playing in my head while I was singing, but again no gizmos or piano in the bathroom. How much wine have you had?” I say, teasing and kissing her again.

Jill asks me to peel three potatoes with her own puzzled look toward me. She turns back to her vegetables, then stops. She turns again taking a trip to the bathroom, then the bedroom. No radio or smart phone to be found.

I grab a beer and the potato peeler and get to work. Jill keeps glancing at me wondering why I would hide electronics from her. 

       Two days later Jill is laying in bed reading when I jump in the shower. The water hits me and out comes Paul McCartney’s ‘Yesterday.’ I’m hurrying through the soaping, scrubbing and rinsing because I have a good book going too. Suddenly the shower curtain slides open a few inches and Jill’s face appears; I cut the song short.

“You’re singing with backup piano music again, how the heck are you doing that?”

“It’s just in my head. Are you saying you can hear it from bed?” I say calmly.

“Yeah, it sounds like we have the radio on in the car, it really sounds good.” Jill says, followed again with, “How the heck are you doing that? I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

“I didn’t realize it was out loud.” I admit.

“I’ve never heard anything like it, lyrics and instrument coming out of the same throat at the same time!” My wife exclaims.

       The water is still on. Jill reaches out and feels my throat for lumps and abnormalities with concern on her face. I scan my body for soap suds before reaching for a towel.

My wife is starring at me like I am a divine being. Now she has me feeling like I am…… odd. “I was just singing a song that I have sung for a long time, with a little piano mixed in.” I give Jill a hug. I want to lay down next to her and do some reading.

“We have to record this!” Jill blurts out.

“What, no, yeah, really, you think?” I say seriously. I get to thinking, yeah, we should record it, obviously she hears it differently than I do. I give my own throat a feel. 

       Jill has her smart phone ready to record me. Now I’m self conscious, I can’t sing a word without laughing.

Jill assures me this is no joke. “Please sing with the piano back up, I want you to hear it again.”

I got nothing.

“Come on sweetie, give it a try, it was fantastic.” Jill says encouraging me.

I got nothing.

“Maybe you need to get in the shower again.” Jill says.

“Oh come on,” I reply. “I’m beat, I just want to read, try recording me tomorrow. I’ll wait until you are home and ready with your smarty phone.”

I have been thinking about this all day, I am a little excited. My wife has been listening to me sing in the shower for years so it shouldn’t be a big deal. It might be fun to record and listen to myself singing. But then I’m thinking, Jill wants it on her smart phone so she can share it with other people. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

I hear Jill pulling into the driveway, I’m trying to brace myself. I certainly don’t want to disappoint her, but if this gets out into the world and is a flop it would be embarrassing for both of us.

Jill comes through the door all smiles and ready for a kiss.

       “Phew! You smell, get yourself in the shower, and, oh yeah, sing your heart out.” My wife says while smiling and fiddling with her phone. It takes a couple of minutes to get undressed, grab my bathrobe and get the water running. 

Jill is pacing, she doesn’t understand I have to be in the mood, in my own zone, in my own time for this to work. I hope she hasn’t chatted with multiple people through the day about this. The pressure is mounting.

I disrobe and step into the shower. I have to adjust the temperature slightly. The warm water is hitting me, running down, feeling good. I’m thinking, the heck with it, I’ll hit her with Piano Man again.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday, regular crowd shuffles in,” and so it goes. I continue singing and right away I can hear the piano in my mind, and now that I am looking for it, I think I can hear it in my ears. It’s like I have a second voice box, an extra larynx that I have recently activated. I’m also realizing I am tipping my head in various directions to get the highs and lows of the piano’s range. I hope it’s not off-putting to anyone. I hope it’s not too odd or weird.

       I wash my arm pits, feet, unmentionables and hair while putting on my best show. After shutting the water off, a hand juts in holding a towel. I take the towel and slide the curtain aside, there is Jill with tears on her face.

“Oh sweetie, that was remarkable.” I get a hug and a kiss. She takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom where we sit on the bed and listen to the recording. I am impressed with me.

“That does sound kind of good.” I say to my wife who developed another tear. 

       “Now Jill, it takes a lot of head movement to get the keyboard effect to sound right.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice that behind the shower curtain, I’m sure it doesn’t look like you’re having a seizure.” Jill says encouragingly.

I take Jill’s hand, “If you share that with people they’re going to say it’s a hoax, you know that.”

“I know,” she says. “That’s why I’m hesitating, we can’t just rush into this. We have to figure out a way to get this heard so there is no doubt about its authenticity.”

We both think for a moment.

“Maybe I should go to a doctor, get an X-ray, be sure it’s not something growing in there.  I mean It did just start a couple of days ago.”

“Yes, I agree, that’s a huge step in the right direction. Have a doctor sign-off on this. Do you think you can sing for a doctor, without water running?” Jill continues pondering.

“That’s a good question.” I reply.

Jill brings up a good point, “Maybe you should see a vocalist, maybe a vocalist could fill in any blanks a doctor leaves out and give you tips on voice exercises.”

One week later after conversing with an astounded Doctor holding X-rays of a double larynx in a human throat we are off to an appointment with a well known vocalist with X-rays in hand. 

       The vocalist is astonished and a little shaky after hearing me sing (no water needed) with piano background.

       “Yeah, I can suggest voice exercises but, like the doctor said, this is a phenomenon. You have to take care of this, I mean, yourself. Don’t overwork it, don’t catch a cold or a flue. Above all don’t take any hits to the neck.”

The vocalist has connections. A week later we are at a reputable recording studio with the X-rays and the vocalist and a lawyer. I sing for a couple of minutes. The studio manager and his assistants are dumbfounded by my talented vocal cords.

        I haven’t said anything to Jill but, I’m scared. This whole thing is going to change our lives. I am used to going to work, coming home to my wife, having dinner, relaxing before bed then doing it all over again the next day. Yeah, my comfortable routine may get sidelined.

But this thing with my throat, my larynxes, my vocal cords, I may have a once in a lifetime chance to be somebody. I can’t pass this up. Months and years from now I would hate myself for not trying. I have to ‘man up’, I have to do this for Jill, and myself. I will take this opportunity and run with it.

The studio people spend another half hour with our lawyer, Jill and myself. The lawyer has already researched their past client history and found it satisfactory. Jill and I have the final say; we are all in agreement.

A couple of days later all those involved sign the legal documents protecting my wife, me and my copyrights to what my unique talent produces. The recording begins. Almost immediately it’s on social media. The videos are a hit, head movements and all.

I now burst out in song when looking at my bank account numbers. I’m thinking about putting in a swimming pool in the back yard. I’m thinking about a new pickup truck. I’m thinking about a long vacation. I’m not just thinking about myself either. I will buy something nice for my wife also, and it won’t be a new wheel barrow for her gardening, it won’t be a new vacuum, and it won’t be a new washing machine; it will be sporty and fast in any color she wants. It will be accompanied by a diamond neckless taped to the steering wheel. BUT !! It will have to stay parked in her new garage while we are overseas on the Emerald Island of Ireland, where she has dreamed of visiting since I first met her.

A month passes and we are still high on life. I have recorded and have for sale twenty-five songs with a dozen others in the works. Of the top ten best selling songs in the U.S. I have nine. I gave away my backhoe, tools and client list to a close friend, (he said I can call him when we need a hole for the pool). Jill gave up her job so she can manage our lives. She takes care of the house and our busy schedules; arranging flights, talk shows, concert venues and recording sessions.

I am now able to use my second larynx independently, I can play a nice piano piece if I choose, no words.

I have changed my looks dramatically. Now that I am a showman my hair is longer, my beard is cut close but not shaved. I wear expensive suits, shoes, and hats in an attempt to look like a fine tuned ‘piano man’. After receiving threats from whack-jobs I now have security where ever I go.

Jill is spoiling herself with new clothes and redecorating the house. We donate to all the charity organizations in the county and are having several Little league baseball fields built. We are footing the bill for a much needed wing on the Library. We have given money for hundreds of music scholarships and plan on hundreds more including those for art, medicine and athletics.

We are on the ride of our lives of money and fame. We promised each other in the beginning that we would keep each other in check, not to let our easy going personalities go by the wayside. We managed to keep most of our old friends while letting new friends into our lives.

We continue to be generous. Our parents on both sides are gone but  brothers and sisters are benefitting from our newfound wealth also.

Six months later while returning from Ireland in our personal jet we begin the planning stages of a huge pool party. Our staff will handle the logistics but we will come up with the guest list.

“I want to invite Paul McCartney, Neil Diamond, Billy Joel and Willie Nelson,” I half jokingly say to Jill.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she replies jokingly.

We jumped on the opportunity to purchase the neighbors house directly behind ours. The fence came down and the house was converted into what we now call, ‘The Pool House’. We can now invite more people.

The date for the pool party is set, the invitations sent, the awesome caterer we have used in the past is ‘good to go’. The last piece of the puzzle is, entertainment.

It is three days before the party, I have been giving my throat some time off. Jill and I are relaxing by the pool with our wine and beer. My security is on the premises but out of sight. I mention to Jill that this feels like the old days when it was just the two of us. She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.

       “I miss it too,” She says with a tear in her eye. Suddenly we have our arms around each other sobbing.

The front door bell can be heard at poolside, I wait a moment for security to answer the door. The bell rings again. I’m thinking it may be a package to sign for or it may be my brother, he said he would drop in this week. I scoot to the door.

Upon opening the door two plainly clothed strangers are standing a comfortable distance from me.

“May I help you?” Spews politely from my mouth.

“I am Ya from China,” says the young lady while bowing.

“I am Petro from Ukraine,” says the young man stepping forward offering his hand.

“We thought we should meet you.” The young woman says, then suddenly bursts into a variety of beautifully played stringed instruments from her throat accompanied by the young man’s amazing rhythmic drums from his throat.

Smiling broadly, my open hand sweeps toward the door, “Come on in! Do you have a place to stay?”