The show started off like any other; entirely too much build
up for 2 minutes of singing - albeit very good singing – and because it’s the “Battle
Rounds” each song completion resulted in one of the coaches selecting a winner
from the competing duo.
So there I sat, in the dark, sipping my coffee and watching these amazingly talented people sing for their lives when all of a sudden, I’m bawling like a baby. I don’t mean I got teary. I mean doubled over, head in hands, mouth open, drool descending, audible gasps, ugly crying. I even did the breath thing your 3 year old does when he’s worked himself into a tantrum frenzy. You know, the one that when they attempt to speak it comes out like they’re being punched in the stomach with each syllable – why-y a-am I-I cry-y, i-ing (yes, I actually said these words aloud with only me in the room.) What the hell, drama? Even my dogs were profoundly confused.
So there I sat, in the dark, sipping my coffee and watching these amazingly talented people sing for their lives when all of a sudden, I’m bawling like a baby. I don’t mean I got teary. I mean doubled over, head in hands, mouth open, drool descending, audible gasps, ugly crying. I even did the breath thing your 3 year old does when he’s worked himself into a tantrum frenzy. You know, the one that when they attempt to speak it comes out like they’re being punched in the stomach with each syllable – why-y a-am I-I cry-y, i-ing (yes, I actually said these words aloud with only me in the room.) What the hell, drama? Even my dogs were profoundly confused.
I mean, sure, I get teary when I witness an amazing voice or
hear a song sung better than the original - especially when it comes out of an
unsuspecting subject - but this was just a run-of-the-mill duo singing a song, doing
what they were born to do. And that’s
when it hit me. They were BORN to do this. They have their childhood idols extolling their
greatness on national TV, validating their very existence on this earth, confirming
everything they had been working for and sacrificing for all their lives. The coaches utter phrases such as, “You were
born to do this,” “You belong on my
team,” and my very favorite line from the smokin’ hot Adam Levine, “You are
very, very special.”
Just once… But I digress.
So why get all weepy about some strangers on TV receiving validation for something they were born to do? Because they knew what they were born to do. They knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. They had it figured out and had people who saw the potential in them to grow them into accomplished "whatevers" – to help them achieve their dreams.
What was I born to
do? Who is extolling my greatness? Who is validating me?Just once… But I digress.
So why get all weepy about some strangers on TV receiving validation for something they were born to do? Because they knew what they were born to do. They knew what they wanted to be when they grew up. They had it figured out and had people who saw the potential in them to grow them into accomplished "whatevers" – to help them achieve their dreams.
On some level I’ve always known that I didn’t have the drive to do any one thing. And I think that’s because I realized I’m not particularly good at anything. That’s a harsh reality and one I’ve never really taken the time to say out loud. Karen, you are not exceptional - you have no discernible talent. There, I said it, and it sucks. I guess I will never know what it feels like to be the best at something or hear Adam Levine say to me, “You are very, very special.”
And that’s when my son came out from his bedroom with his bed-head hair, rubbed his sleepy eyes and, without even asking me why I was crying (or talking to myself), he slowly turned to the TV and said, “Oh, The Voice is on! Mom, I wish you were famous. That would be so cool.”
What a little bastard.
