Sydni and I must have stood there for at least an hour before she decided she could do it. It was almost annoying, because she wouldn’t let us leave, and it was hot. We had to stay there in the parking lot of the Hy-Vee, on that lazy summer day, until she got the nerve to stand up and sing that silly song.
The whole situation was rather amusing, actually; though I’m sure it was only amusing for me. While I waited for Sydni to decide whether or not she could stand up and sing, I took in the environment. As we leaned against the building, we slowly ate our less-than-delicious Oscar Mayer hot dogs, and watched various individuals or groups of people walked fearlessly up to that big reddish-orange and yellow hot dog shaped van, formally know as the Wiener-mobile, and “sing-the-jingle,” though in some cases it was more like they “spoke-the-jingle” or even “shouted-the-jingle.” It was a pretty big deal to have such a well known vehicle parked in a small town like New Ulm. People came out of the proverbial wood work to see if they had enough talent –or lacked the talent—to be put in a television commercial for Oscar Mayer products. Not only was it an attraction for children, it was an attraction for construction workers on their lunch breaks, and 60-year-old singing trios.
As entertaining as it all was, we were on a mission, according to Sydni. She was going to sing that song, and I was going to encourage and help her. But, instead of becoming less nervous as we stood and watched countless other children, her age and younger, stand up and sing one of the three jingle options, she became more nervous. “Do you want to sing-the-jingle, honey?” the Wiener-mobile driver asked. Sydni hid behind me but silently nodded her head.
We still had some obstacles to overcome, though. First of all, there were three songs to choose from. There was the “Oh, I wish I was and Oscar Mayer Weiner…” one, but there was also the “My bologna has a first name…” one, and then one in Spanish. Well, narrowing it down to only two was easy enough, considering Sydni didn’t know any more Spanish than uno dos tres. Narrowing it down further was difficult though, because that was the point that Sydni told me she didn’t really know the words to either of two songs left to choose from. The second obstacle was that she couldn’t read very well yet. She would not give up though. So we retired to our wall and tried to memorize-the-jingle. We eventually decided on memorizing the first song, because after going through each song with Sydni several times, I concluded it would be much easier for her to remember, especially considering I didn’t think she knew what bologna was, let alone how to spell it.
So, with obstacle number one, choosing a song, conquered, we moved onto number two: actually memorizing the song. This one proved much more difficult to achieve than the previous. It turned out for an anxious six-year-old, memorizing a four line song a very difficult thing. Not to mention she still needed to get the tune of the song in her head. It soon became apparent that no matter how hard we tried, Sydni was not going to get that song memorized perfectly. Maybe she could have if we had had a little more time, but I had to be to work by 3, and we still had a couple of errands to run. We settle with what we had, which, all things considered, was pretty close to the original song, with only a few misspoken words, and an occasionally dropped line.
With obstacle two somewhat solved, obstacle three still glared at us. Just because Sydni had decided she was going to get up on that miniature stage, stand behind that microphone, and sing that jingle, did not mean that she still wasn’t terrified to do it. Because she was, she definitely was. We needed to wait until the perfect moment, when there was the least amount of people milling around, choking down their hot dogs. We also had to practice the song a couple more times, and watch a few more people perform it; just to make sure it was possible.
Well, it was possible. Sydni stepped up to that stage, timidly, like a kid on the first day of school. The camera guy lowered the microphone for her, and she was off, though pretty shakily. The first try could have gone better. She messed up on the words right away, and the driver tried to help, which was a mistake. With a huge sigh, she lost all confidence, and my heart broke for her. It was okay though, she could try again. My heart pounded in my ears. I wanted her to succeed so badly. I crossed my fingers as I tried to take a picture. Sydni started her second try. That time went much better, even though she still missed the line “That is what I truly want to be-e-e.” That line wasn’t very important to the song though, so it was okay. The important thing was she had done it.
Yes, she had done it. She had mustered up every last bit of courage in her body, and got up and performed. When she was done performing, she was done with her fear. She was content to blow the complementary Wiener whistle and brag to anyone who would listen that she had sung that song, but she stopped thinking about how scared she had been. For me it was different though. While I watched her internal struggle in amazement, I remember thinking that everyone had there own kind of courage, and some people were more courageous than others. I realized that a person could only be courageous if they had fear. For instance, I had no fear of performing, whether it was in front of cameras, or a live audience. Therefore it would have taken no courage for me to stand up and sing a silly song. Sydni, on the other hand was probably one of the most courageous people I knew, because she was terrified of performing, and yet she did it anyway. Ironically, she didn’t even like the hotdog.
