Most of my earliest memories are musical ones: my grandfather singing Italian arias and folk songs in his sweet tenor; Dad crooning Sinatra-style to Mom as they danced through the house; my cousins, aunts and uncles singing together at Sunday dinners at Papa’s house high on the bluff overlooking Lake Superior. Music was everywhere and people were always singing and playing it. I grew up singing as I grew up breathing – it was just something you did.
I listened to all kinds of music growing up: opera, jazz, blues, classical, rock, pop, country – it really depended on who was in charge of the record player or the radio dial at any particular moment. Needless to say, I developed eclectic tastes.
I enjoyed singing and playing, performing in a championship school choir one year, then a charity telethon, various garage bands and school shows. Then I grew up and went away to University to get an education so I could earn a living. Which I did. I studied International Relations, then I became a lawyer and practiced for more than 20 years. I still do, part-time. I got married and had a family. I enjoyed my life and didn’t really realize how much I missed singing with live musicians until one night I got up at an open mic. And there it was. I was home.
Who says you can never go home?