I've known three women in my life who were rumored to have been nuns or studying to enter the nunhood or something like that.
Why it was one of those things said in whispers I have no idea but that was enough to keep me from actually asking directly, "Hey, is it true you used to be one of those nun chicks?"
In any event, not one of them could sing, so far as I could tell.
I should hasten to add that the first time I heard that song was on The Simpsons.
I think it was the episode where Milhouse has a girlfriend and her father wants to break them apart so he sends her away to a convent or something like that.
Anyway, one of the nuns cautions the girl, "No pas Dubois (de boys)," which made my wife laugh out loud which I think is the first and the last time I ever heard her laugh at anything.
Apparently she was totally ewedscray if you know what I eanmay. The convent got the money earned from her recordings as a nun. When fame and reassignment clashed and she left, she was not able to keep the name Sœur Sourire or Singing Nun, a movie exacerbated the situation, she was unable to use the name that gained her recognition so all future projects basically failed to take off, sort of a one-hit wonder there.
Then she was hit with a phenomenal tax requirement that she had to pay herself from money that went to the convent and they refused to help, plus she could not use her name.
She parted ways with the church on contraception, apparently lived with a partner and both committed suicide together using barbiturates and alcohol together, thus concludes the sad tale of the singing nun.
But I was made to sing other songs too. (along with Supercalifragilisticexpealidocious, even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious, if you say it loud enough you sound precocious) In and out of schools along the way I found myself in various choir situations. I do not know why. Apparently they just loved our clear angelic youthful voices yet untainted by smoke, alcohol, meth, age, sex, substances damaging to vocal instrument. Two stick out in particular because they involved French nationals suddenly appearing as substitute teachers then ending up finishing the year.
In which we learned other songs from that thing too.
Plume du Radis, would be Carrot Top in English, I suppose, red hair.
Tous les Chemins, very sweet song, all the paths in the sky and the wind.
But the thing that sticks out from those episodes is the brand new teacher saying to the confusion of us all, part of the confusion her accent and not so good English,
"One of you sounds waxy."
We had no idea what she meant. None of us understood what she was on about, or who the culprit could be, or how we could stop the offense.
She told us to keep singing, walked across the front row of singers, identified the offending waxy voice, pulled her out of the line, and told her to sit down.
I still don't know what she meant, but man, was that girl embarrassed. The boys were thinking, "too bad we didn't know how to make our voice go waxy so we could be pulled out."
How very strange. I've been playing this song for my kid, named Dominic, over the last 2 months. I heard it as a child from the french folks down the street. It led to his name, and I like to play it for fun (a little bit of tease).
22 comments:
I've known three women in my life who were rumored to have been nuns or studying to enter the nunhood or something like that.
Why it was one of those things said in whispers I have no idea but that was enough to keep me from actually asking directly, "Hey, is it true you used to be one of those nun chicks?"
In any event, not one of them could sing, so far as I could tell.
I should hasten to add that the first time I heard that song was on The Simpsons.
I think it was the episode where Milhouse has a girlfriend and her father wants to break them apart so he sends her away to a convent or something like that.
Hey! Look what I found!!!
Anyway, one of the nuns cautions the girl, "No pas Dubois (de boys)," which made my wife laugh out loud which I think is the first and the last time I ever heard her laugh at anything.
When I was in High School these Singing Nuns were rock stars for all the nuns who taught us, particularly the nun who taught French and glee Club.
This song was almost as tortuous as Winchester Cathedral.
If I had to listen to that song more than once I might consider becoming a protestant.
Wasn't long after this that the nuns all became feminists, fled the convents and commenced to make serious pains in the ass out of themselves!
Ah, for the good old days!
When I was in High School these Singing Nuns were rock stars . . .
SUCK ON THIS.
Ouch!
Apparently she was totally ewedscray if you know what I eanmay. The convent got the money earned from her recordings as a nun. When fame and reassignment clashed and she left, she was not able to keep the name Sœur Sourire or Singing Nun, a movie exacerbated the situation, she was unable to use the name that gained her recognition so all future projects basically failed to take off, sort of a one-hit wonder there.
Then she was hit with a phenomenal tax requirement that she had to pay herself from money that went to the convent and they refused to help, plus she could not use her name.
She parted ways with the church on contraception, apparently lived with a partner and both committed suicide together using barbiturates and alcohol together, thus concludes the sad tale of the singing nun.
But I was made to sing other songs too. (along with Supercalifragilisticexpealidocious, even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious, if you say it loud enough you sound precocious) In and out of schools along the way I found myself in various choir situations. I do not know why. Apparently they just loved our clear angelic youthful voices yet untainted by smoke, alcohol, meth, age, sex, substances damaging to vocal instrument. Two stick out in particular because they involved French nationals suddenly appearing as substitute teachers then ending up finishing the year.
In which we learned other songs from that thing too.
Plume du Radis, would be Carrot Top in English, I suppose, red hair.
Tous les Chemins, very sweet song, all the paths in the sky and the wind.
But the thing that sticks out from those episodes is the brand new teacher saying to the confusion of us all, part of the confusion her accent and not so good English,
"One of you sounds waxy."
We had no idea what she meant. None of us understood what she was on about, or who the culprit could be, or how we could stop the offense.
She told us to keep singing, walked across the front row of singers, identified the offending waxy voice, pulled her out of the line, and told her to sit down.
I still don't know what she meant, but man, was that girl embarrassed. The boys were thinking, "too bad we didn't know how to make our voice go waxy so we could be pulled out."
I find that song strangely mesmerizing.
Chip is right, a sad downfall for the singing nun.
And to make things even worse, she didn't even get to play herself on TV because the role went to Sally Field.
Heh. This song is one of my first musical memories. That and "Puff The Magic Dragon." They are imprinted like familiar smells.
Fascinating story of the Singing Nun.
Mitchell, I made it through almost 2 minutes and then had to stop.
That mess actually got a lot of air play on the radio, back in the day.
Hard to believe.
I guess it's the thought that counts.
Nuns with guns!
Many sad and dysfunctional woman became nuns back in the day. They did not socialize well and could not get along with anyone.
So they put them in charge of children.
Of course these same woman still exist in our society but confine their excesses to the raising of cats and feminism.
I wonder what it was like in convents back in the days when they put wayward wives and daughters in them?
I wonder what it was like in convents back in the days when they put wayward wives and daughters in them?
What it was like in the convents was beside the point.
Keeping them in the convents made life for everybody outside better.
How very strange. I've been playing this song for my kid, named Dominic, over the last 2 months. I heard it as a child from the french folks down the street. It led to his name, and I like to play it for fun (a little bit of tease).
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