Learning to sing

My first guitar was a 1930s Harmony acoustic that was mostly held together by its own memory of having been a guitar. It lasted all of six months before I convinced my parents to splurge on a $100 upgrade from the local music store. I don’t even think it had a brand name. I’m pretty sure the head was labeled “GUITAR”, in case anyone was confused about that. I kept going for the next few decades, playing a little, occasionally upgrading, setting the guitar in the corner for a while. I never really felt compelled to get better at it. Good enough felt good enough. About two years ago, I got the itch to get better at singing. I’m not really sure what triggered it. I think there was a vague feeling of “I need to find a way to get some of the meh out of me,” and guitar alone wasn’t really cutting it (and I hadn’t really considered ramping up writing again). So, after a couple of false starts, I found a teacher. Progress was quick, as it often is when you start something new. My recital…