notatiste karaoke

My big take away from this experience is that karaoke is different from lipsynching.

I had not been aware of that distinction.


Karaoke is when you can sing and know the lyrics but need backup and cuecards.

Lipsynching is when you can’t sing to save your life but you can clown around with the best of them.


Using snapchat, with only ten seconds per snap, you don’t need to know all the lyrics, just a few.

I just naturally fell into the lip synch category.

There is an awkward moment when you are listening to your music and you push the button to start recording.  Nothing happens for a second.  You miss a beat and have to linger in rhythmic purgatory until you realign with it.  If you know your lyrics well, which I don’t, you hit the beat lipsynching.  My starts always lag because musical talent=zero and lyrical knowledge=zero.

My partners in crime, the notatiste karaoke voxer chat crew, were very forgiving of my horror show, but please don’t tell Adele what I did to her song.

guilty as charged

I may have won a little grace for my frank cluelessness and willingness to flaunt it like a badge of honor.

go me

All the while, unbeknownst to me, the crew were in a separate voxer group.  I was just in my own bubble, laying tracks

like a boss.png.


Tuning in to the *regular* notatiste voxer chat, I wondered why there were no videos being linked. But I kept on because “a winner don’t quit on herself.” *Beyonce

Still no links shared by the karaoke crew, but I finished off with this one:

See? You don’t have to know the lyrics.  Just fake it. Trust me. No one cares.  Ham it up to cover it.


Later in the evening, I saw that we were “starting” soon.  But where?  On Snapchat? Google hangout? Voxer?  Twitter? I had no idea.  So I stuck to snapchat.  Only a few in the crew were on there, but saw that they had a few snaps so knew that I was not completely alone.

It was late in the evening, so I it was time to roll out my Prince jam:



These are not in a particular order and include several songs.

Prince was a showman extraordinaire and I loved him.

Take Me With You! One of my favorites, for sure.

Here’s Purple Rain without a lens.  Just me groovin’:

My last one was Darling Nikki, but I decided not to include it here because “digital tattoo.” I will be a grandmother in October. Enough said.

Next morning, I downloaded each snap from Snapchat and uploaded each one to YouTube.

I eventually learned that there had been this notatiste karaoke voxer chat all along, and my good friend Tracy added me in.  That’s where I shared my snaps.  It took me a while to hear all the ones I had missed.  On voxer, you have to use the browser to scroll back to the voxes before you were added.  And it’s a shaky endeavor, but I caught more of them.

They were amazing!  These folks were singing!  They used their real voices!

Not worthy

Here are links to their blog posts about their night where you can hear their talent:

Barbara Cotter

Tracy Brady

Makisha Rogers

team awesome

Being a faux popstar is fun, but the fame is punishing.







What Women Hear.

A writer who sounds off soothingly on my subtle ear drums.

Stacia L. Brown


Suppose she awakens at dawn beside a partner with whom she is still in passionate love. What might a woman hear? A subtle symphony of breaths, a nearly imperceptible whimper seeping from the gallows of her beloved’s subconscious. She would know by the pitch of that whimper the nature of her lover’s dream.

Her legs may scissor the rustling cotton sheets until she is out of bed and, in the shower, the towering bricks of her day’s to-dos crash down and drown the noise of pelting water on tile.

She hears herself: No way I can get through this. She hears herself: You can and you’d better.

On her commute, she hears men, erecting themselves and squaring their shoulders, hoping to appear formidable, psyching themselves up with trap tunes through earbuds, with menacing admonitions to anyone who bumps them or scuffs their shoe or dares to change lanes, despite…

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Happy Birthday Grandma!

This blog post blew my mind and cracked open my heart a little. Several Kleenex needed.

Dr. Dorian Leigh Roberts

So lately, I have been glued to a marathon of the Rocky movie series, I guess because they have been showing them on the AMC channel.  I remember the Rocky enthusiasm when I was younger.

…that he won some and lost some.

Really, at the time, I was too young to understand or really remember what was going on or how the movie might come to reflect my life.

Remember the older guy Mickey, the trainer, the coach?

I had one of those in my life too… she was my grandmother—Ella Mae Johnson.  Just like Mickey, she was short, tough, honest to the “T”, my motivator, my cheerleader, my trainer, my fighter and most importantly, my grandmother.

Ella Mae Johnson was born on January 18, 1918, in Dickson, Tennessee.  She migrated up from the south to Detroit, Michigan, to be with her sister Lovie Taylor.  My grandmother later…

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Caldecott Medal Contender: A Fine Dessert

I’m sick.
The comments.
Can’t. Stop. Reading.
“priceless moments revolved around love of family”
-who were ripped away and sold at auction.
-whose very fathers were their mastters
-who were whipped and punished at the whims of the mistress
-who were raped by their fathers/masters
-who were rented out to other magnificent plantations enveloped by trees often never to be seen again

Wonders in the Dark

a fine dessert 1

by Sam Juliano

Mmmmm. Mmmmm.  Mmmmm.

Somewhere in the heavens Robert McCloskey is holding a copy of A Fine Dessert and is marveling at how the delectable results of berry picking have persevered over many generations.  His own concern in his classic Caldecott Honor book Blueberries For Sal of course was securing the raw materials despite the unanticipated stalking of a benign black bear.  The author and illustrator of A Fine Dessert – Emily Jenkins and Sophie Blackall – have brought homespun prominence to one of 2015’s most exquisite and irresistible picture books, one that confirms that time and place having little bearing on the universal appreciation of making something with your own hands, and then enjoying it with your loved ones.  To be sure, the vital ingredients in this mouth watering confection are not blueberries, but blackberries, but the culinary implications seem to imply fool can be made with…

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The Sound of Silence – Simon and Garfunkel

I learned to play this on the piano as a teenager, singing the words knowing only vaguely what the lyrics conveyed. The reverence spoke to me. it’s been a long time since I’ve studied the language and listened to the performance. Thank you for adding further value to S & G’s work.

Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed

Ignorance and arrogance; the two most devastating characteristics of humanity. These two simple traits are the roots to nearly all conflicts, whether a domestic spat between loved ones or in raging wars, the persecution of an entire people, or mass genocide. The astounding and innovative Simon and Garfunkel hit, “The Sound of Silence” has crossed borders of both nations and ideals in its haunting harmonies, resonating lyrics, and its looming sense of doom when describing the fatal flaws that all humanity possesses. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, childhood friends growing up in a Jewish neighborhood in Queens in the 50’s, first formed their musical duo as teenagers. “The Sound of Silence” was released on the duo’s debut album “Wednesday Morning 3 A.M.” in 1964, which for about two years was unrecognized, until its rerelease in 1966. From then on, “The Sound of Silence” has continued to touch new people each generation thanks to…

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