CPW Confessional Vol. 4: Duh?

One of the worst things ever to happen to Grant Miller was when he had to sing some Christmas carols in front of a church congregation, and he didn't know the words.

His story reminded me of my first encounter with the stage. It did not go well.

I was four. One day my dad mentioned something about a big concert at our church to celebrate Easter, and that I would be singing. I had no idea what he was talking about.

Next thing I know, he and I are in the car, headed over to church. He brought me into a classroom where there were all these kids. I had no idea what was going on. None. I don't even know if I'd ever seen any of these kids before.

Pretty soon I'm lined up with these strangers, headed out onto a stage where some lady was sitting behind a piano. She started playing and everyone around me started singing. I had NO idea what they were doing. Plus, I always hated it when people did that - there was just something embarrassing about people singing songs. I didn't like it.

So with the combination of my being forced onto a stage against my will, the confusion, and people singing, I did the only logical thing: I started to cry. Right onstage.

I was escorted off, and pretty soon was sitting happily in the audience with my parents, who seemed quite annoyed with me.

To this day I wonder if I had been to rehearsals for this concert but just didn't understand what the deal was, or if the surprise concert was just another one of my dad's little tricks that he likes to play. I highly suspect it was the latter. He is always pulling shit like that on us.

Nonetheless, there are days when I feel I am back on that stage. In fact, I spend approximately half of my waking hours thinking "I have NO idea what I'm doing here. WTF?" Sometimes, I even start to cry.