The Doorman’s Diary: 8.11.12

An usually sparse crowd tonight. A young woman came to the door looking for the owner. She’s a jazz singer, whose been living in New York for the past three years. She is tentative, gentle, and very nice—all traits that get her pushed to the side in a highly competitive music scene. As we chatted further, it became clear. Her daddy apparently has some renown in jazz and she had sung with his group. She described an incident where she had sung a solo in a song and daddy had the musicians stop playing so he could chew her out for some kind of transgression. After learning about her father publically humiliating her, I understood why she is the way she is. The same night of that incident a woman walked up to her and said that her voice reminded her of her grandmother and to promise that she’ll never stop singing. That moderated the slap from her father. I felt bad for this young lady. She’s 31 and still seeking the approval of her father, who clearly is a controlling bastard who is probably threatened by her talent. In the process of talking with her I was encouraging and offered advice to listen to her own voice that will tell her what to do in her singing career. I told her to take one step at a time and make sure the steps are going forward. She thanked me for my encouragement and advice and asked how I knew all of this. I said, “Sweet young woman, I AM The Doorman.”