Baritone

Baritone: (n) an adult male singing voice between tenor and bass.Dictionary B

In my teen years, I found myself caught up in the world of Southern Gospel music. This was brought about because the church I attended was feverishly interested in the medium.

Southern Gospel music is a collision of real gospel music, barbershop quartets, revivalism and a bit of show business (without admitting that you’re performing).

The quartet is usually male and is divided into four singing parts:

  • Bass: a voice that covers the deep root note of each chord
  • Lead: that’s the melody boy
  • High tenor: which generally speaking is an alto part, taken up an octave
  • And baritone. Nobody ever wanted to be baritone.

The baritone part was always considered a symbol of weakness. It was the part for those men who were not manly enough to perform very low notes, nor strong enough to carry the song’s melody, or high enough to dazzle the audience with tones in the clouds.

It was a standard joke. Whenever the baritone member of the group was introduced, the emcee would say, “Barely a tone passes from his lips.”

But here’s the interesting thing: most male speakers or singers are baritones. So as always, we take the common and we make it mediocre, causing the majority of the folks around us to feel inadequate, as we worship the handful who do the extremes and make the news.

Until we learn to take the people in our lives who are emotional, spiritual, mental and physical baritones and teach them to shine out the very best they can with what they’ve got, we will have a world of over-promoted tenors and basses … and jealous “barely-a-tones.”

 

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Adorable

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adorable: (adj) inspiring great affection; delightful; charming: e.g. she looked adorable

FBY.

It’s my new abbreviation for Facebook Yap.”

I, for one, have always been suspicious of anything that steps in to replace something of importance which really does not capture the value–just fills the space.

Muzak, for instance, is no substitute for a concert. It deserves to be in an elevator, enclosed and prevented from being broadcast to too many corners of the earth.

That’s what I feel about the conversations, chatter and implications of Facebook.

So when I look at the word “adorable,” which used to have some tenderness, in my mind it has just become a way to describe a picture you received from someone, which you did not ask for, of their dog or child, and you are desperately groping for a way to tell the person you received it. so you send back a quick message, which says, “adorable” with twenty-four exclamation points. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

FBY has ruined so many words.

I can no longer use “cute,” especially S-O-O-O-O-O-O-O cute.

“Inspiring” is gone, since any little piece of drivel someone sends that they feel has a deeper meaning you must proclaim to be divinely unctioned.

Some of the old standards which should have died a long time ago have been dug up from the grave and re-shot in the head:

  • “They’re growing up so fast …”
  • “You can tell they’re in love …”
  • “I miss you …”
  • “Wish you were here …” and
  • “It’s really been a rough day …”

It saddens me–because there ARE things in life that truly are adorable. I once watched a bug try to crawl up a tree. Every time it got to the same place, gravity took over and it would fall. The little critter tried about seven times, and then apparently tapped some unused brain cells and decided to walk around the tree instead. That’s kind of adorable.

But when we have created a medium which focuses on US more than anything else, we have to also conjure a response to the offerings of others who intrude on our self-promotion by sending their own press clippings.

I have made the mistake of trying to write something truly significant or meaningful in one of the “comment” spaces, only to be ignored, and probably relegated as a “non-FBY’er” who still believes in complete sentences and knows the difference between “your” and “you’re.”

I value progress–as long as it goes FORWARD.

But I’m not willing to call something progressive that takes us back to the status of scrawling on cave walls, stepping back and grunting our approval.