Singing Evenings: What We Lose Without Them

I was fourteen, sitting in a cabin with a rubber bubble cap over my hair, which I was attempting to dry. I was extremely bored — so I decided to start singing. At the time, I was a loyal fan of Joan Baez — so I began with one of the songs on one of her albums.

Within a few minutes, two young men I had secret crushes on appeared at the door. We’d all been signed up for a summer program by our parents, and this was happening on one of the group’s five-day outings. The fact that I was wearing a dryer cap embarrassed me beyond words, so I stopped singing immediately.

But the guys — who also happened to be twins — were having none of that. “Was that you?” one asked. I yanked off the cap and replied. “Yeah.”

“Would you sing with us some time?” they asked, letting me know both of them played guitar.

I agreed, and that night, our singing evenings began. While there was no romantic involvement, as both guys were in relationships with two of my friends — I think, looking back on it, I found something better.

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Photo by Devang Saklani on Unsplash