See, when slozo was a little boy, he sang. He sang in choirs, sang solos at Latvian cultural events, sang with his sister for old folks homes, he competed in Kiwani's Festivals, and he took private singing lessons. Back in the day before his voice broke (late, around 14) due to the onset of acne, he was considered pretty good. Late in his still-soprano career he sang with the Toronto Children's Chorus and had one of the best vocal teachers in the all of Canada, Ms. Goldsband. His parents pushed him and pushed him; they sort of had to at times, because slozo had some talent but was chronically lazy and unmotivated. Sometimes, his parents pushed him too hard . . . and slozo being slozo, this had a very negative effect.

At the age of 16, as I was being groomed for entrance into the Toronto Opera School (can't remember the exact name for it) and soon after I successfully passed my grade 10 voice at the Royal Conservatory of Music, I quit. I had already come to the stage where I felt I could stand up to parental pressure, especially my father. I knew there would be hell to pay, as my parents had all their hopes and dreams pinned on me becoming an opera star. Unfotunately, I had only resentment left . . . and I wasn't liking the whole singing thing anymore. I had to do what I wanted to do.

My parents never forgave me, really. I broke their hearts, as well as my vocal teacher's. One thing I will always respect so much about Ms. G is that although she was very disappointed, she agreed with me about the most important thing - if I wasn't liking what I was doing, then I should stop investing my time in it. Despite her having a strongly vested interest in me continuing my singing career, she knew that I needed to follow my heart. And she knew how difficult it was for me to break it off . . .

My two or three very oldest friends in the world vaguely remember I used to sing back in grade 6, 7 and 8, but other than those guys, none of my friends really knew about my singing past. In fact, many aquaintances would not be able to imagine me as a former singer. I never sang publicly again after I quit except for once - Ave Maria (Schubert's version, for those interested) two years after I quit at my grandmother's funeral, as that had been her request years ago. I didn't sing again afterward, though, so no one knew about my "hidden" past.

Flashforward to a few weeks ago, when I started fooling around with recording a song with littlestar. The vocalchords were rusty, and I was a bit timid, but . . . not as bad as I thought it might be. When ten years you have not sung, sound as good you will not. We recorded the first track, a cover of blixco's (and clock's), which was a cover of Nick Drake's that I had surprisingly never heard of before (I listened to some Drake). It was nice enough I suppose, and we both were somewhat satisfied with the effort. We both wished we knew how to play guitar better It gave us dibs on the Peter, Paul and Mary folk/ballad category, that was for sure. But - whatevah.

As the deadline was pushed forward last week, an idea struck me after the party at the Shawshack - why not do a mock version? 'Star and I had discussed a Weird Al Yankovic version, substituting hilarious, nonsecical and dirty lyrics. We could pump out a quickie version pretty fast, I thought to myself, knowing I would have little to do with the time consuming tasks of production and editting et al. So when Sunday rolled along, that's exactly what we did . . . and I am pretty pleased with the result. I mean, 'star really took the concept and went in a direction I hadn't fully envisioned in my mind, but it was good . . . in fact, I found it downright hilarious and awesome.

In the end, I quite enjoyed the experience of recording with my sis, and I would do it again. On the other hand, the competition is getting stiff for these MFCs as I listend to most that were up already . . . some very nice work indeed. Still, it's nice to be doing some singing again that I consider fun . . . and really, that's the whole point of it.