Make Your Own Kind of Music ( Mama Cass Elliott )

My CEO has found me 'my song'! I've been feeling a bit blue over certain things lately and when she played me this song today in her office, it totally gave me a new perspective - when those days are tough, choose to keep on going and make your own kind of music even if nobody else sings along because you know that you are contributing to the greatest of intentions and for the good of all!

Nobody can tell ya;
There's only one song worth singin'.
They may try and sell ya,
'cause it hangs them up
to see somone like you.

But you've gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sing along.

So if you cannot take my hand,
and if you must be goin',
I will understand.

You're gonna be knowing
the loneliest kind of lonely.
It may be rough goin',
just to do your thing's
the hardest thing to do.

But you've gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sings along.

So if you cannot take my hand,
and if you must be goin',
I will understand.

You gotta make your own kind of music
sing your own special song,
make your own kind of music even if nobody
else sings along.

The Race by D.H Groberg

I attended OTTERS TMC's meeting on 28 February at OGDC Seria and decided to present one of my speech projects. The last time I presented a speech was in October 2007. So it was high time that I did.

The current manual I'm working on is part of the Advanced Communication series called Interpretive Reading. Interpretive reading is a form of speech communication by itself, but it has functions in other areas as well. Any quotes you use in your speeches to illustrate a point will be far more effective if you can read them properly. In business, you may be called upon to present reports and speeches written by others. If you're a teacher or parent, you may read stories aloud to youngsters.

An interpretive reader will be communicate the ideas and emotions of someone else. The projects in this manual covers requires the speaker to convey the meaning and emotions of someone else to the audience. How you do this is mostly through the use of vocal techniques which I've acquired and got better at through Toastmasters.

The second project I did required me to Interpret Poetry. So I found this poem which I thought would be great to share and I practiced it lots to make sure that I got the feelings the author wanted to convey across to the audience.

The result? An inspirational evening!

The Race by D.H. Groberg
(extracted from "A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul" - Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen)

I
"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now;
This time you can't succeed!"

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene;
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates my being.

II
A children's race - young boys, young men -
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure! But also fear;
It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each thought to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that,
At least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side
Each cheering from his son
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went!
Young hearts and hopes afire.
To win and be the hero there
Was each young boy's desire.

And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought;
"My dad will be so proud!"

But as he speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd
He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell and with him hope
- He couldn't win it now -
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished
To disappear somehow

But as he fell his dad stood up
And showed his anxious face.
Which to the boy so clearly said:
"Get up and win the race!"

He quickly rose, no damage done
- Behind a bit, that's all -
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself
- to catch up and win -
His mind went faster than his legs;
He slipped and fell again!

He wished then he had quit before
With only one disgrace
"I'm hopeless as a runner now;
I shouldn't try this race."

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father's face;
That steady look which said again:
"Get up and win the race!"

So he jumped up to try again
- Ten yards behind the last -
"If I'm going to gain those yards," he thought,
"I've got to move real fast."

Exerting everything he had
He gained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lied there silently
- A tear dropped from his eye -
"There's no sense running anymore:
Three strikes: I'm out! Why try?"

The will to rise had disappeared;
All hope had fled away;
So far behind; so error-prone
A loser all the way.

"I've lost, so what's the use," he thought
"I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his dad
Who soon he'd have to face.

"Get up," an echo sounded low.
"Get up and take your place;
You were not meant for failure here
Get up and win the race."

"With borrowed will get up," it said,
"You haven't lost it all.
For winning is no more than this;
To rise each time you fall."

So up he rose to run once more,
And with a new commit
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now,
- The most he'd ever been -
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win

Three times he'd fallen, stumbling;
Three times he rose again;
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line first place.
Head high, and proud, and happy;
No falling; no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line last place;
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he'd won the race
To listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,
"I didn't do too well."
"To me, you won," his father said.
"You rose each time you fell."

III
And when things seem dark and hard
And difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race

For all of life is like that race.
With ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win,
Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They still shout in my face.
But another voice within me says
"GET UP AND WIN THE RACE!"