MY PHANTOM OF MUSIC

I don’t know when the music theater bug hit me first. 

Perhaps it was when my father brought home “Brigadoon” for movie night.  None of us wanted to watch a movie with such a weird title.  What was “Brigadoon?” 

Once we turned on the movie, I instantly fell in love with the songs, dancing and storytelling this film brought into my life.  I sang “Go Home With [Gaydra Jean]” to my sister for weeks after watching the movie.

Or perhaps it was when my dad introduced me to the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber and gave me a book to read about the elusive Opera Ghost.  I dreamed of being Christine Daae, as she clearly and beautifully sang an E6 as the Phantom guided her.  The magic and the mystery of the opera made my young mind dream of possibilities.

I may have begun loving Broadway theater when my parents made sure we watched “The Sound of Music” when it aired on public television (before videos, DVDs, and instant downloads).  The whole family was armed with dad’s popcorn and Velveta cheese for a snack, as we watched the Nazis try to destroy the von Trap family.  Julie Andrews quickly became my hero as she confidently sang her way to becoming a nanny.

Somehow a love for Broadway found its way inside me and did not let go.  I began auditioning for roles in high school.  I took music lessons.  I even took a few dance classes. (Which could be another story in and of itself about following through despite embarrassment and awkward moments.)

I landed a couple of minor roles in the chorus for the first part of my high school career.  I loved every moment of it.  I continued to sing and dance my way through my teenage years.  And I dreamed of becoming a big star on the stage before I left Grand Junction High School.

Imagine my elation when I learned that our school would be presenting “Oklahoma” my junior year –   Dad had made sure that I had a healthy dose of Rogers and Hammerstein while growing up.  “Oklahoma” was my favorite.  And my favorite character?  Ado Annie, of course.  I loved her solo, “I Cain’t Say No.”  And she made me laugh as she kissed all the boys; I could definitely relate to the boy crazy attitude.  I really wanted the role, but my competition was fierce.

Our director, Mr. Jones, had a daughter that went to school with me and she also loved theater.  I knew Janin wanted the same role and I was sure I would be playing second fiddle to her again.  I tried not to get my hopes up as I auditioned.  Janin was a good actress, but my singing voice was a bit better. 

It was a tight race.  The morning the results were posted, I cried tears of joy and excitement as I realized I was going to be Ado Annie.  (Janin was my understudy.  I later learned that my choir teacher and music director, Mrs. Schafer, really fought for me to get the role of Ado Annie.)

For two months I practiced after school every day.  I sang.  I learned choreography.  I got fitted for costumes – my favorite dress was yellow.  And eventually we choreographed the kissing scenes: the Persian Goodbye and the Oklahoma Hello.  I was on cloud nine throughout the whole experience.

I would be lying if on opening night I said I was confident and not nervous at all.  I was a wreck.  This was my first big role, and I was anxious about everything.  Would I remember my lines?  Would my voice hold out during the song?  What if I forgot the dance moves?  And what if I missed a cue? 

As I tried to calm my anxiety, a friend came in the green room with a rose and a white mask in a vase tied with a black ribbon.  The card read, “Don’t be afraid.  The Angel of Music is with you.”  My stress melted away as I realized that I had had my own Opera Ghost for many years.  I knew at that moment who my Phantom was and that my dad was rooting for me and would always be one of my biggest supporters.  With that knowledge, I was empowered and had the courage to be Ado Annie for our production of “Oklahoma.”

Dads are remarkable!  My dad helped me to see the situation clearly – I needed a boost of confidence, and I knew my Phantom of Music was the confidence I needed.  He helped me to be independent while encouraging me to be the best Ado Annie I could be.  I’m so grateful for my Angel of Music.  Thanks, dad, for believing in me.

At least that’s the way I remember it.