Empty Boats
Ahhh the bliss of being able to row your gondola knowing you don't have to sing "Santa Lucia" for the 50 000th time on a bum throat. I can daydream the ride away with occasional pauses to pose, wave and smile, all the while holding my fingers up in the Asian-appropriated "Peace" sign.
((**I am fascinated to discover just how this:
transmogrified into this:**))
Unfortunately, there is a drastic flaw to my idealised empty boad ride. And that is a certain breed of tourist I like to call the Chunga Chanter (pronounced Ch-uh-nga - definition: Cantonese for "sing" or possibly "sing song you stripey-shirted fool"). The Chunga Chanter stands to the side of the canal yelling "CHUNGA, CHUNGA" and usually proceeds to open their mouth and give their own decibel-fuelled rendition of "O Sole Mio", expecting you to then do the same. Usually, when confronted with one of these individuals, I smile sweetly, (for Sofia Lorenzo is not an aggressive soul), and utter the phrase "I no speaka Engleesh" before jamming my foot on the motor - (which propels the gondola forward at approximately the same rate as a motorised boat in a bathtub).
"What's the big deal?" I hear you asking. Surely, I am a singer. That is my job. It is what I am paid to do. You may think, "Miriam, these poor creatures have travelled miles by air and sea to reach the humble gates of The Venetian. They are just reaching out to be entertained and touched by you and your gift of song". And you would have a point.
BUT.
I have my limits reader. And being treated like a human jukebox does not, in my eyes, fall under the category of professional requirement, nor artistic expression. What did we think of the circusmaster yelling "Dance monkey! Dance!", or Pozzo yelling "Think Pig! Think!" ??
Not much I dare say..
Do I walk up to a plumber and say "Plumb! Plumb those pipes!" ?!
I do not.
Because plumbers - as do all professional beings - have their pride and deserve their peace. If I pay a plumber then I expect him to do his job. I give my passengieri (passengers -ie. paying customers) my all. And if someone on the side of the canal makes an effort at conversationalising - getting to know the REAL me (I mean, Sofia...) - and then ever-so-sweetly requests a little ditty? Well, I am not wholly without a heart. I will acquiesce with the utmost enthusiasm. But "Sing! Sing!" without so much as a smile or a please, will not induce me to any kind of melodic serenade, I don't care what language the request is uttered in.
Would it you?
