I was here in this house in Tarzana, where I still live. I must have been about 6, maybe 5. Pretty young.
I had the idea to present a little concert with my sister for the neighborhood kids and my mom. We would sing “I’m Henry The Eighth, I Am” which was a popular song at the time by Herman’s Hermits.
Simple, right? Repeating lyrics, silly song. No instruments, probably a minute and change without the guitar solo.
So, I went around our little cul de sac promoting the show. A summer’s day much like today. I think we gathered two, maybe three kids. Eldridge and Beverly Adams, another kid whose name escapes me. They all gathered in the living room of our house to hear us sing.
Then it hit me: STAGE FRIGHT.
I couldn’t deliver! The kids were justifiably impatient and not very happy with me for dragging them away from whatever they were doing. My little sister, Ellen, who was probably three, was FINE. She actually started to sing the song, to prime the pump… but I was having none of it.
A classic case of all promote, no delivery.
I think I “solved” it finally by putting a little white sailor’s cap I used to wear… over my FACE. How’s that for presentation?
Eventually, after a couple decades, I wore out the mechanism on the tiny engine that was producing my stage fright, and I no longer am a sufferer. Whew! Otherwise, I guess I would have stayed in Marketing.
I thought of that incident last night as I sat in my living room watching the first live show from Radio City Music Hall, (which the Grand Canyon was modeled after) and seeing what the other performers were able to bring to that vast stage. No particular reason…
AND– I can finally announce publicly that I will be heading out to New York next Tuesday, and you can see my performance and vote on the following Tuesday, August 6.
America’s Got Talent, Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 9/8 Central.
I’ll be the tiny impressionist on that stage.
(Ellen, I might need you out there on stage with me. And bring a sailor’s cap.)