The Hills Are Alive

When I was a kid, I used to pretend I was Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. Sadly, I'm no great shakes as a singer, though. I don't need a humiliating audition story ('Have you considered taking up knitting, dear?') to confirm this. I've got ears, and I'm smart (and kind) enough not to subject others to a sound that's comparable to a freight train trying to back up over curved and rusted tracks.

When I'm alone, it's a different story. If you can't pretend to be Julie (or Ella Fitzgerald or China Forbes or Patti Smith) when no one's around, then what's the point?

When I was about 11, my family lived in a house with wall-to-wall dark green carpeting (think of a forest floor) and a vast living room that was home to a coffin-sized stereo cabinet. In the cabinet was a turntable as well as my parents' record collection. My favorite albums were the original cast recordings. I loved twirling around the room to My Fair Lady's "I Could Have Danced All Night" or tapping and two-stepping past our TV and our couch to Oklahoma's "Everything's Up to Date in Kansas City." Of course the best -- the absolute best -- was Julie Andrews, as Fraulein Maria, singing "I Have Confidence" in The Sound of Music.

Listening to that song, I could picture the whole scene just as Julie played it in the movie. She was dressed in drooping hand-me-downs and wore a wide-brimmed hat (roughly the same circumference as the largest of Saturn's rings) atop a truly regrettable haircut. And yet Julie, as the world's most famous aspiring sister, stood up straight and swung her carpet bag (moth-eaten probably) all around Salzburg as if she didn't have a care.

Oh, how I could feel those words -- I have con-fee-dence -- as I belted them out along with Julie. Of course in reality I had no con-fee-dence back then (I'm talking about sixth grade here). But the more I sang that glorious line, the more I could feel it in my bones. With the volume on the stereo turned up, I couldn't actually hear my own dissonant notes, but I could feel the reverberations of the words and music in my lungs and ribs and skull, and for a few powerful moments I was ready, like Julie, to take on any challenge.

So yes, I'm a fan of Julie's...so much so that one of my latest publications is a prose poem whose title bears her name. Unfortunately, Julie doesn't fair well in this piece, as it was inspired by a nightmare I once had in which she was held captive by some nasty (and ravenous) wolves.

Many thanks to the editors of Three Drops from the Cauldron for including "Julie" in their Midwinter Special Issue, which you can find by clicking here. And here's to finding creative inspiration and confidence in the most unlikely places this year.