When I was at Brown, I was in an a capella group called The Ursa Minors (gasp! That’s the first time I’ve ever admitted that on the Internet). One year, we qualified for some kind of international competition, which was held in Montreal. Rather than flying from Providence, we drove the 13 hours in a line of cars. The whole fucking way, I sat in the front seat of my friend Willa’s SUV, and sang at the top of my lungs to whatever was on the radio.
By the time we left, two days later, we were ready to rip out each other’s throats with our bare teeth. Thirteen girls in one hotel room, in fucking freezing Montreal. I asked to sit in the front of Willa’s car again, and was forced into the middle seat in the back.
Just as we were pulling out of the city, Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know” came on the CD player. At the time, it was my absolute favorite fucking song. It was the first thing I downloaded on Napster. Every night, before I went to bed, I put it on full blast, and danced around, screaming it at the top of my lungs.
So when I heard the opening chords tinkling over the speakers, I clapped my hands, opened my mouth, and started belting my heart out. My voice is inconsistent and full of vibrato. My lung capacity is astounding. When I belt, I sound like a goat through a loudspeaker.
Willa let me sing for about 15 seconds before she pulled the car over. “You’re going to break my ear drums!” she screamed. “Shut up!”
For the rest of the way home, I seethed with rage in the back of the car, but I kept my mouth shut. It didn’t stop me from singing Whitney when I got home however. “Did you miss me, Ruth?” I asked my roommate, all in black, sitting on her bed.
“Not really,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I think everyone kind of forgot about how awesome Whitney’s music was because of the crack, and the embarrassing reality show, and the way she looked like a crane when she appeared in public.
As sad as I am about her death, I’m happy that it reminded me how awesome her output was, so many years ago, when she was the queen of the world, and everyone wished they had a voice like hers. This morning, as a tribute to her, I’ve been dancing around in my pajamas, breaking my rusty voice on her high notes, and marveling at how beautiful she was in her videos. She’s a legend, Whitney Houston. I’ll never, ever stop emulating her music.
(And just fyi, “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” might actually have surpassed “How Will I Know” as my favorite Whitney song.)
