Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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When the Soloist Can’t Sing

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Singing at my cousin’s wedding with my best peasant dress, a guitar from Sears, and hair teased enough to hide packages of candy.

During my twenties and thirties, I sang at weddings, funerals, and assorted karaoke events with equal enthusiasm. My most requested song was “The Lord’s Prayer,” and I finessed the perfect ending:

The last line of the song is, For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen. I sang the words in a crescendo until I reached the high note on the second syllable of “forever” and held the note long and loud until the audience squirmed. Then using the same breath, I slid down the scale to hit the note on the third syllable, saying “vah” instead of the hard “r” sound. I took a breath and sang “Amen” using vibrato with the passion of a celestial choir.

My imaginary celestial choir.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t do that anymore.


I was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy heart disease after a heart attack in June resulted in an echocardiogram followed with angiogram surgery in July. I’m taking eight medications, but I still can’t catch my breath, so a myocardial MRI is scheduled in a few weeks. Because of my broken heart, I can’t sing four words without stopping.

I loved to sing. At the University of Idaho, I was selected for the Jazz Choir and the Vandaleer Concert Choir. In 1971, the Vandaleers toured Europe and sang in old cathedrals in six countries. Most of the students had never been out of the USA, and a few hadn’t left the state. When the airplane took off from Heathrow Airport in London to return home, I began sobbing and couldn’t stop. The adventure changed my life, and my goal was to travel the world with a song in my heart.

I was fortunate to travel through the next few decades, and I kept singing. When my two children were born, my repertoire included favorite lullabies such as “I Love You a Bushel and a Peck” and “Momma’s Gonna Buy You a Mocking Bird.” I made up several songs, and their favorites were “Teeny Tiny Baby Boo” and “Two Kids on My Lap.” I sang around the house, and my five-year-old son would sing along with me for part of the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah.

And the glory, the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all nations shall see it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.

Because I played and sang the soundtrack from “Les Miserables” so many times, my daughter could sing the entire score by the time she was 11 years old. The touring company was years away from traveling to Idaho, so I took her to Chicago to see a live performance. That was the first of many journeys to see various musical productions.

Over the last few years, my singing was limited to lullabies with my grandchildren. I also sang in the shower and when driving alone. I couldn’t reach the high notes but managed to fake the melodies. The heart attack has taken away an important part of my life, and I don’t know if I’ll ever sing again.

To keep the music playing, I started to play songs on the piano and asked for requests on my Facebook account. So far, I’ve played more than 25 requests, adding costumes and decorations for each song. Requests range from patriotic to  spiritual to silly to entertaining. I believe I’m helping to heal my broken heart by giving music to others. This is a harmonious strategy to keep my heart beating in rhythm while sharing songs. And the people said, “Amen,” with vibrato.

Hymns are the most requested songs.
Playing “The Entertainer” because I am.
Playing requests for patriotic songs.
Playing “I Love You a Bushel and a Peck” for the kids and grandkids.

 

Author Featured in KNOW BOISE Publication

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KNOW BOISE is an annual publication known as the Who’s Who of Boise and features women leaders and business owners in virtually every industry. Women are nominated by members and vetted through peer-review. The premiere issue was introduced in August, and Elaine Ambrose was included in the showcase of entrepreneurs as a bestselling author, workshop facilitator, and creator of Mill Park Publishing. The local chapter is affiliated with the global organization, KNOW WOMEN, and offers workshops, master classes, conferences, and networking opportunities.

The following page was included in the Boise, Idaho publication:

KNOW WOMEN is a global media company and community dedicated to amplifying the voices of female leaders, executives, and entrepreneurs. According to Sarah Benken, founder and CEO, “When successful women are lifted up for their hard work and achievements, they inspire the next generation of female leaders.”

 

Boise Attorney Doxes Police Officer

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August 1, 2021

Definition of Dox:  to publicly identify or publish private information about someone especially as a form of punishment or revenge

A Boise police officer recently took a break in the middle of a busy 10-hour shift to grab a sandwich. Apparently, the officer wasn’t wearing a mask, and Jane Gordon, a personal injury lawyer from Boise, saw the officer and became so enraged she took to Twitter to inform the world of the officer’s egregious behavior. She also named the officer and tagged the mayor’s office and the Boise Police Department.

The Boise mayor recently reinstated a face-covering requirement at all indoor city facilities. The sandwich shop wasn’t a city facility, but Jane Gordon felt compelled to criticize and publicly shame the officer because he works for the city.

I believe we have a year remaining to exercise our freedom of speech, so I posted a response stating my opinion:

@AmbroseElaine replying to @JanesAmerica, @BoisePD, @CityOfBoise

“Thanks to Officer (name removed) for performing a stressful, thankless job in a reality show full of Karens.”

(Definition of Karen: An obnoxious, angry, entitled middle-aged white woman who uses her privilege to get her way or publicly criticize other people’s behaviors)

I expected vitriol from the unhinged losers who use Saul Alinsky’s book Rules for Radicals as a playbook for progressive propaganda. Their most effective weapon is to use ridicule through doxing, intimidation, or bullying to silence or condemn opposition. I wasn’t disappointed. Here are a few of the responses to my opinion.

Jane @JanesAmerica replied:

“I don’t think getting a sandwich is very stressful. And if it is, maybe you shouldn’t be a cop.”

My response to Jane: I’ve encountered personal injury attorneys and law enforcement officers. I’ll take the cops any day.

Criysto @criysto replied:

“Girly.. you’re a humor author?”

My response to Criysto from Las Vegas: Yes, I am. Two of my humorous books were chosen for finalist for ForeWord Book of the Year for Humor, another book was the First Place Winner for Humor from the Independent Press Book Awards program, and another book won the Silver Medal for Humor from the Independent Publishers Awards program. I won three humor writing competitions from the National Society of Newspaper Columnists and won humor writing awards from BlogHer and from the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. Several humorous essays on the Huffington Post went viral, including one that became one of the 10 most-read essays in the history of the Huffington Post. You seem crabby, so I should send you some of my funny books.

Yeti of @Yeti_Abides replied:

“Elaine- is your bootlicking not enough thanks for the slave catchers of Boise?”

My response to Yeti, a “professional entertainer, live event host, and aspiring comedian” in Boise: No, I don’t lick boots, but I wore out plenty of work boots while growing up on a farm. I waded through a lot of bullshit, and I’ll add yours to the pile.

I’m really a funny grandmother trying to stay alive in a hostile world. I will continue to support and respect law enforcement, and I’ll continue to write humor. In my next story, the nasty characters will be named Jane, Criysto, and Yeti.

Bag Balm™ is NOT an Aphrodisiac

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I own night gowns that date back to the Clinton Administration. My favorite slippers have shuffled me toward my coffee pot since the Eurythmics sang “Sweet Dreams are Made of This.” And, I can’t part with my favorite robe that I wore when laughing at Johnny Carson before signing off on the Tonight Show.

After a certain age, most women have earned the right to crave comfort with lounge clothes that are labeled X-Large instead of XXX. We’d rather eat cheesecake than pose for it. I tried once, I really did. In a pathetic attempt to mimic a seductress, I wiggled into a teeny black outfit that cost more per ounce than gold. I couldn’t tell which was the front or the back, so I think I had it on sideways. Then I arched my loafer-loving feet into a pair of black shoes with 5-inch heels and teetered over to Husband. He looked up and got that panicked look he gets when he knows whatever he says will be wrong.

“Did that shrink?” he asked, right before I wobbled on the heels and fell down. The tiny strap on the garment snapped and all hell broke loose. It was not a pretty sight. Husband discreetly brought my Johnny Carson robe so I quickly covered my body and recovered my composure. He assured me that he loved me just how I was, and I assured him that he finally said something right. The skimpy outfit was washed, folded, and donated along with the heels. I’m sure they bring comfort and joy to someone else.

Not enough bag balm to cover these girls…

Husband tolerates my well-worn night gowns, but I crossed the line recently when I applied Bag Balm™ before coming to bed. Those of us who grew up on a farm know that the familiar green tin can of ointment was a staple in the medicine cabinet. It’s been around since 1899 and was originally used to treat cows with dry, cracked udders. Farm (and many city) women use the ointment to smear on their heels because it works better than expensive foot creams. So, one night after I slathered my heels with the greasy balm, covered my feet with thick, white socks, donned my pill-covered gown, and jumped into bed, Husband remarked that maybe I could try the little black outfit again sometime.

He’s still recuperating.

 

My Heart Hurts

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I appreciate this cartoon by theawkwardyeti.com because my brain keeps trying to make my heart function at full capacity, but it’s too weary. I’ve have been diagnosed with Non-Ischemic Cardiomyopathy heart disease exacerbated by Occipital Neuralgia migraine headaches with a nasty helping of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, literally a broken heart. According to Johns Hopkins Medicine,

Broken Heart Syndrome can be life-threatening. In some cases, it can cause severe heart muscle weakness resulting in:

I appreciate modern medicine and the fine people at St. Luke’s Idaho Cardiology Associates. After my successful angiogram surgery last week, my cardiologist and I have devised a healthy, positive plan for my weak and damaged heart. I’m taking eight medications, eating a healthy diet, and doing light exercise. I’m finding humorous cartoons and articles about heart disease. I’ve always known laughter is the best medicine.

I also appreciate the many friends and family members who continue to offer prayers and encouragement, and I intend to return the favor with authentic compassion. I’ll be around for a few more years to irritate, amuse, and love all of them. Stress is not welcome in my heart or home, and certain people who continue to shun me can wallow in mud and eat worms.

For now, it’s one day at a time. Just give me a few more minutes…

Survive the Summer with Songs

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music from noise

I grew up listening to The Captain and Tennille singing about “Muskrat Love” and The Carpenters warbling “Sing of good things, not bad. Sing of happy, not sad.” I believe those two songs were solely responsible for the rise of heavy metal bands and for Black Sabbath’s song “Electric Funeral” about nuclear annihilation. It’s all about balance.

To survive this summer of irritating noise, make music an important part of your life. Turn off the news and listen to tunes that inspire, soothe, and tap dance through your mind with promises that the political elections will end in November. At the stroke of midnight on December 31, you’ll take a cup of kindness yet and sing “Auld Lang Syne” with the eager passion of a professional soloist despite knowing that when the sun rises you won’t be able to carry a tune in an empty punch bowl. But for a brief moment, when the year is new and full of untainted potential, you’ll become a soulful crooner for all the ages, sharing your song with the universe.

Your challenge is to keep the music playing long after the confetti is thrown into the garbage, the bills are past-due, and prosperity is still elusive. The late comedian George Carlin said, “It’s called The American Dream because you have to be asleep to believe it.” His acerbic humor nailed it. How can you sing a joyful song when life keeps dumping junk on your head? Maybe you’re unemployed or in a lousy job, or you haven’t had any loving since 2008, or your dog ran away. Look on the bright side – you could write Country Western songs!

happy sad music

Music and mood are closely interrelated — listening to a sad or happy song alters your moods and has the ability to change your perception of the world around you. For example, gothic metal music makes me want to destroy something with a chain saw, while a classical aria causes me to (almost) levitate with elation. In a stressful situation, a little dose of “Walking on Sunshine” could be all it takes to relieve the tension.

Here are some exercises to prove that music alters your mood. Imagine seeing and hearing the following scenarios:

You’re struggling in the steaming jungles of Vietnam as you hear the foreboding song “The End” by The Doors as played in the movie Apocalypse Now. Then you’re drinking alone in a dark bar as a Billie Holiday impersonator croons “Gloomy Sunday.” You claw out of a deep depression only to hear Kansas singing “Dust in the Wind.” By now you should be wallowing on the floor, sobbing in anguish about the wretched world.

Now, pretend you’re twirling on a panoramic Austrian mountain meadow singing “The Sound of Music” with Julie Andrews. You’re even wearing a summer dress with a festive apron. Then transport yourself to a sunny beach listening to the jaunty tune of Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Finally, turn up the volume on Chariots of Fire or Rocky. Yo, Adrian! Are you smiling yet?

musical notes

No matter what festivity, calamity, or horror show blaring on the national news, you should have a song or two ready to suit the occasion. It’s healthy for the lungs and cleans out the debris in your mind if you warble a  popular song in your shower or drive along attempting to harmonize with your favorite collection of jaunty music featuring barbershop quartets. Add it to your bucket list this summer to make your own music to help you survive until the end of the year.

Don’t worry if you’re unsure about writing a song. Remember the immortal lyrics of that famous song by The Captain and Tennille that rose to #4 on the Billboard Charts – “Now he’s tickling her fancy, rubbing her toes. Muzzle to muzzle, now, anything goes as they wriggle, Sue starts to giggle.” That song includes synthesized sound effects simulating muskrat copulation. Yes, you can do better!