I love to sing. I also happen to be tone deaf. My dear, sweet Auntie Val broke this news to me years ago. I can’t remember how old I was, or what I felt. I just remember her telling me. That moment, although not the least bit traumatic, spared me years of humiliation, thousands in therapy and is likely the reason that I’m not trying to cut my own record at an age that is well past pop-prime. I was reminded of this memory last night, when flipping channels and getting sucked into the Real Housewives of Atlanta. Poor Kim. Obviously she never had an Auntie Val and she clearly exceeds the age limit of American Idol, preventing Simon from working his magic. So to all the Auntie Val’s and Simon Cowell’s of the world, Thank You! Your bold, honest truth is of great service to mankind. Keep it coming.

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