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Singing Telegram

Best for Colorado

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Best for Colorado

Best for Colorado is a statewide initiative founded and spearheaded by the B Corp movement to bring together a coalition of businesses, nonprofits and government groups to encourage and empower all Colorado companies to be the best for Colorado’s workers, communities and the environment. Launched in June 2017 at The Governor’s Mansion, the landmark program invited 500 Colorado companies to complete the Best for Colorado Challenge. Best for Colorado enlisted Custom Singing Telegrams to concoct a theme song for the program launch. CST owner Orange Peel Moses penned a derivative of Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Takin’ Care of Business” for the occasion - see lyrics below :)

Jobs that are worthy of this state
let's create 'em, make 'em great
Build and strengthen our communities

Colorado deserves it,

Colorado, let's preserve its
environmental integrity

Challenges, they are a facing
Colorado's population
Business can address 'em head on, it's true

Business practice improvement
let's support leaders who do it
and encourage others to follow suit



Taking care of business (every day)
Taking care of business (every way)

taking care of business (that is right)

Taking care of business and working overtime

Work out

What's your company's impact?
take the challenge, get the facts
you can do it all on our website

Any company can do it
any biz can join the movement
doesn't matter its sector or size

80 B Corps in this state
B Corps are leading the way
using business as a positive force

it is time to get to work
Build, recruit, support, mentor
Then next year, we'll give out some awards

Best for Colorado

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Neighborhood Builders

Neighborhood Builders

Neighborhood Builders is a Bank of America program that awards financial aid to deserving nonprofits. Denver’s Prodigy Coffeehouse was chosen to receive a $200K Neighborhood Builders grant in 2021. Bank of America enlisted Custom Singing Telegrams to break the incredible news. CST owner Orange Peel Moses penned a derivative of Queen’s iconic “We Are the Champions” to communicate the one-of-a-kind announcement - see lyrics below :)

At Prodigy, coffee is served
by young adults
from Northeast Denver

Kind staff on hand to show them the ropes
Youth building skills, confidence and wellness
Filled with dreams and hopes

Neighborhood Builders, you are
And we want to help you go so far
Neighborhood Builders
Neighborhood Builders
Congratulations, here's a check for 200K

Image: Giorgio Trovato / Unsplash

Baby Sloffee (Grateful Dead Derivative)

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Baby Sloffee (Grateful Dead Derivative)

At a bluegrass fest, that is where we met
You were drunk and lost and also alone
You were in distress, like a shit-faced damsel
I rescued you and now look where we are

To Pigskin, I gave in, winning isn't so bad
Down dog style, I got you to try it
Speaking of pups, when Hobo went missing
We trekked for miles, and three solid days

Happy anniversary
We are checking things off
Our rain check list

Quarantine with you hasn't been that bad boo
We can lamp all day and all through the night
You are cuter than a baby sloth, you
took me to a donkey sanctuary

We have off-roaded, at the Top of the World
A Trumper we call “Come on” helped us up
Florida, New Orleans and Alabama
Iron Bull football, survived a blizzard too

Maybe one day, we'll have a threesome
with the gal who barbecues at Rancho
And I'll write a book of rednecky things you say
'It duttin' matter, I like 'em skinny'

La dee da da da,
We go where we go
Da da da, da da, da da da da da

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Voila! It Was You

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Voila! It Was You

In nearly twenty of years of delivering singing telegrams, I've performed for thousands of recipients. And I’ve composed personalized lyrics for many, including recent customer-turned-recipient Jimmie Brown (below). Jimmie is the first recipient to wax poetic about her point-of-view experience. Behold her French-infused “Voila! It Was You” :)

You slipped in the door, I hadn’t a clue
And then when I turned — voila! it was you
With guitar and grin and jaunty beret
It’s Monsieur l’Orange, all ready to play
I sat open-jawed, with my mouth all askew
As my family high-fived at their big birthday coup

Your French serenade was la creme de la creme
With random French phrases adroitly tossed in
You strummed and you sang with gusto and mirth
And led in the toast to the day of my birth
Complete with my very own “La Vie en Rose”
With personal lyrics that you had composed

The whole celebration was tres magnifique
Pulled off with aplomb and with nary a squeak
(With one small exception and narrow escape
when 85 candles ignited the cake)
So merci beaucoup to the whole sneaky crew
My fabulous family and fabulous you

Zheemie aka Jimmie Brown

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Albuquerque Ambush

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Albuquerque Ambush

Hot air balloons inspire a sense of childlike wonder in Shannon Ryan. Albuquerque’s Balloon Fiesta has been on her bucket list for nearly a decade. Currently living part-time in New Mexico's balloon capital for a travel nurse contract, attending the 2023 edition was a no-brainer. And because her enthusiasm is contagious, I couldn't resist joining her for the adventure. Serendipitously, I booked a singing telegram there mere days before “balloonatics” would converge en masse.

Betty aka Mechante (French for “naughty”) was the telegram recipient. She was celebrating an impressive milestone – ninety years on this sphere. When one of the senders – a French enthusiast named Jimmie – celebrated her own fiftieth, Betty performed a French chicken routine at the party. As a callback to that skit, I assembled my own French chicken look for Betty's bday gram. No, it's not a mascot-style chicken suit. But the hodgepodge styling adds to the comedy of the bit, and keeping my face exposed is better for both singing and expression.

Delivery day involved performing in two different states in the same twenty-four hour period. I rocked a midday party in Parker (Colorado), flew to Albuquerque mid-afternoon and Lyfted to Betty's garage - my staging area for the evening’s surprise. The moment of truth had arrived. I sauntered into Betty's living room with my six-string and rocked my way through tunes including “The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane” and “Older Women,” Ronnie McDowell's ode to experienced lovers. Then I performed “Spring Chicks are Overrated,” a poem Jimmie composed for the occasion, and clucked an onomatopoeia version of “Happy Birthday.”

”Spring Chicks are Overrated” (An Excerpt)

Spring chicks are overrated -
give me a lusty hen
whose feathers still get ruffled,
though she’s molted now and then
Her wattles may be sagging
and need a tiny tuck
But, frankly, if they’re dragging,
she doesn’t give a cluck

Poem: Jimmie Brown
Image: Lee Higbie
Gratitude: Shannon Ryan & Poppa Peel

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Moose Knuckles

Moose Knuckles

Meet Moose Knuckles. Moose recently roasted an Aspen, CO resident named Chris. Chris is a [mostly unsuccessful] hunter, armchair recording artist (at best) and investor of family Coke money. At the request of his longtime buddy, I penned a musical roast to the tune of “Baby It's Cold Outside,” a song Chris once passably covered with duet partner Annalisa Bone (his single-use recording alias was Matador). Moose is sporting a multi-colored coat, a mini harmonica and a target on his chest to illustrate the lyrical jab I made about Chris's hilarious lack of hunting success.

“A meditating, multi-colored coat clad, harmonica-playing, target-wearing moose and you'd still miss!”

In case there was any question, Chris, I'm never going home with you.

Birthday Scavenger Hunt

Birthday Scavenger Hunt

A birthday can be celebrated in myriad ways. And as a singing telegram artist who often gets the distinct privilege of participating firsthand, I'm here for it. Follow me down the rabbit hole, and allow me to tell you a tale :)

Following a recent musical delivery as The White Rabbit, I presented the recipient with a popup book. The book described the scavenger hunt that Pam, the bday gal, was invited to embark on. The book’s initial clue led Pam to a nearby puzzle box filled with hand-carved figures. The handmade box contained “Alice dollars” and another clue. The custom currency was legal tender at Black Box Bakery, where another box awaited. This second box contained a tabletop “Drink Me” coffee puzzle, which, upon completion, sent Pam to Ziggi's Coffee. The coffee purchased with Alice dollars came with a cryptex. The tiny Mad Hatter's hat inside contained a geo-location, which led Pam to her final gift in Lakewood Heritage Park.

The takeaway? Never settle for a mere sheet cake. If Sean Rice can lead Pam on the adventure described above, your friends and family can do better ;)

Nothing Compares 2 Booster

Nothing Compares 2 Booster

It's been 438,000 hours and 18,250 days
Since his birth, I did the math, hey hey hey hey
Hot-wired golf carts when he was teen aged
With co-conspirators, hey hey hey hey
Abandoned carts once the joyrides were done
In the lake, pool and elevator
Delinquents were whisked off to a prison
but they were just visiting with Scared Straight
(an at-risk youth program)

No one, Booster, no one compares 2 u

Secret Oktober was the boy band
that he was a member of
They were not the best band in the land
But warmed up Salt N Pepa once (push it, push it real good!)
'You're My Only Lover' was their tune
There are only two chords
I could have penned this to it but you
Y'all would've been so bored, bored, bored

Not a d!ckhead, but was a deckhand
For a big @$$ antique ship
Was in entourage of a gay man
Said gay Brit was rich
Booster busked in London for six months
Was he turning tricks?
In Italy, Booster lived with monks
Killing goats, but celibate? Imagine it...celibate?!
(On a related note, Stephinity may be the only gal here he hasn't slept with)

Learned Kung Fu that Bruce Lee invented
A black belt in masturbation?
Still fathered two boys, but killed one kid
The lactose allergic one
Booster fed a Cheeto to said kid
(to be fair, who knew Cheetos contained bona fide cheese?)
Medics revived his son
Ice cream, in his kid's eye, Booster dripped
Son looked like an alien, alien, alien
(If Booster ever teaches Parenting 101, warn EVERYONE you know to steer clear)

The mushroom chocolates in the icebox
Loki ate a few
When, daily, Booster was smoking pot
Didn't notice his son was too
Five bucks, to a kid, that is a lot
So sand, Loki consumed
Liam and Loki were sparring off
Spoken: Booster gave up trying to stop 'em, said, 'Just don't kill him dude'

This one time at Burning Man, this fucking guy
This guy fucked a dolphin (don't ask me)
Swore brownies were micro-dosed just right
Made partygoers sick
Litter boxes won't do for this guy
In toilets, his cat shits
Once drew a face on his bare behind
Smoked a lit cigarette with it – LIT, LIT

Cinnamon Swallowsworth is his drag name
Looks good in a dress
There's a meme with his doppelganger
It says, 'Your pussy is wet'
Fantasizes about becoming mist
And being inhaled by a lady
Caite, she calls Booster her little bitch
Bat calls him Shaman Shady

Big Prankster Energy

Big Prankster Energy

Singing telegrams would not be nearly as impactful without the element of surprise. My customers and I go to great lengths to ensure recipients won't be expecting a costumed musician to suddenly appear at their home, office or restaurant table. So, even when the message is sincere or sweet, there's always a bit of prankster energy involved. But some customers like to amplify the trickster aspect. Dressed as a rodeo clown, I once walked into a kitchen where a client and her neighbors were gathered and removed a vegetable from the fridge – without acknowledging a soul. “Is anyone else seeing this?” asked one perplexed witness. I attended a Deadhead wedding and wrangled a high five from a groom who'd left high five hopefuls hanging for five whole years. I've impersonated cops, a cockroach, customers, a health inspector, Rick Astley (for IRL Rick Rolls), a Jehovah's Witness and even recipients themselves.

While pranks are fair game all year round in the singing telegram world, some customers like to punk the people they love on April Fool's Day. I once strolled into a Middle Eastern eatery, clad only in a towel (a callback to an awkward encounter with the recipient's barber), and sang Bryan Adams for a befuddled restaurateur. The fake patient I channeled in 2023 takes the cake, though. Make yourself comfortable, it's story time:)

Isaac, a bald Denver dentist who treats a wide variety of patients, was the target recipient. His office had recently received a set of fake teeth in the mail from a sender who identified themselves as “M. Gilbert.” The prankster customer, Isaac's girlfriend, enlisted me to play Mike Gilbert, a patient with dentophobia (a fear of dentists), peladophobia (a fear of bald people) and photophobia (an allergy to sunlight and bright flourescent lights). Isaac's staff, who were all in on the joke, scheduled Gilbert for a midday appointment. I began brainstorming wardrobe possibilities for my unique character.

The prankster's holiday arrived. Clad head to toe in a ski mask, goggles, a coolie (the conical Asian sun hat) and mostly black, I walked into the dentist’s office and checked in for my fake appointment. I handed the receptionist a bag of costumes and wigs, in hopes that Isaac would consider disguising himself to ease two of Gilbert's biggest fears – dentophobia and peladophobia. “Is it cold outside?” asked another patient in the waiting room, confused by the weirdo in the ski mask and goggles (as if there'd been a microburst since he was outside last). A staff member called my pseudonym and escorted me into a small consultation room within earshot of the front office. Leaning into the character, I tipped my sun hat low in the front, imagining Mike wouldn't risk eye contact with Isaac – especially if Isaac wasn't wearing a wig or a costume.

The moment of truth was upon me. Isaac, wig-free and with dentist tools around his neck, stepped into the room and sat down. “What's going on?” Isaac asked. “I'm not sure how much your staff told you about me, but I have a debilitating fear of dentists. So it's really important that you not act like a dentist,” I replied, stuttering slightly. “Did you get the teeth I sent you?” referring to the fake teeth his office had recently received in the mail. When Isaac said he hadn't, I showed him the plaster teeth I'd brought as a prop.

Isaac was buying the act. I asked him if he could sing to me – to soothe my nerves – while he examined my teeth. He wouldn't, but he was willing to refer me to a dentist that could (singing dentists are a thing?). I suggested that I could sing to myself instead. Isaac excused himself, and I could hear him whispering with his staff nearby. I couldn't make out much, but I sensed he didn't want to examine such a strange patient. A staff member came in and whispered, “I have to pretend like I'm talking to you right now. He wants to send you elsewhere, but I'm gonna tell him you insist on being treated here.” The prank was going swimmingly.

Isaac had made his aversion to treating me clear. We collectively decided it was time for the big reveal. “If you see him walk by, just start singing,” suggested the staffer I'd been interacting with. When Isaac appeared in the open doorway, I stood up and began puppeteering the plaster teeth as I sang Weird Al's U2 derivative “Cavity Search” a capella.

Listening to the Muzak
hearing people scream
sitting in the waiting room
reading crappy magazines

With a toothache
this is it, pal
root canal

My molars are impacted
I’m getting gum disease
Gonna need some fillings
Got twelve cavities

Can ya help me?
Have mercy
Doctor please!

Isaac was either confused or speechless while I was singing. But upon finishing the above portion of the tune, I started laughing. Isaac finally realized what was happening and joined me. Everyone who'd been involved in the stunt, including Isaac's nearby girlfriend, was laughing at that point. “Mission accomplished” would be an understatement.

Click on the image and scroll down for smart phone captures of the grand finale :)

Airplane Serenades

Airplane Serenades

While queued for my Southwest Airlines flight checkin last night, an airline employee called me out on the intercom for wearing four hats stacked like Russian nesting dolls (the most affordable way to travel with multiple hats). The pilot, who happened to be nearby, then took a selfie with me. On the plane, one of the flight attendants asked about my ukulele, implying she was a fan of the late Hawaiian singer and ukulele player Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. I pulled the instrument out, she introduced me over the intercom as “Orange peel moses” and I proceeded to croon a verse of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” The airplane hilarity didn't end there. A crew member announced it was a passenger's birthday upon landing. When said passenger indicated she was the bday gal in question, I pulled my uke out again and sang the first verse of Stevie Wonder's “Happy Birthday.” Fellow passengers joined in for the chorus :)

The Wedding Singer

The Wedding Singer

Megan is one of Custom Singing Telegrams' most prominent repeat customers. She has sent birthday grams to friends and family members for about seven years. When she got married in Golden, CO recently, her sister decided it was time for payback. So I donned a wedding dress and sauntered into the wedding reception. Realizing quickly what was in store, Megan started laughing from the moment she saw me crossing the room toward her and her new husband's table. The DJ handed me a wireless mic and I asked the bride if she wanted to tell the attendees who the wedding crasher was. She was still laughing too hard to answer the question. Her husband explained that Megan loved hiring me to surprise people on their birthdays.

Then something magic happened. I've been performing “Grow Old with You,” a tune sung by Adam Sandler's character in the movie The Wedding Singer, for over a decade now. It's a funny, endearing tune, but most people don't know the lyrics. On this occasion, it sounded like half the wedding guests were familiar with the words, and were raising their voices along with me. It was incredible.

Images: Thin Threads

Monopoly Man "Cause-Play"

Monopoly Man "Cause-Play"

The American Innovation & Online Choice Act is a bill that would place limits on big tech companies' power. Even though the bill has popular, bipartisan support, Colorado Senator Michael Bennet is reportedly resistant to it. Trans activist Ian Madrigal, known for photobombing big tech CEOs as The Monopoly Man, isn't impressed. In response to Senator Bennet's alleged stance on the issue, Madrigal enlisted Custom Singing Telegrams to Save the Monopolies and “thank” him for being a friend to big tech billionaires with a parody of The Golden Girls' theme. Rich Uncle Pennybags performed the song for Bennet's staffers, and again outside the Cesar E. Chavez Building that houses Bennet's office. You've heard of cosplay; Madrigal likes to call this “cause-play.” The stunt was accompanied by a 4-figure ad buy, naming Bennet a Big Tech MVP (Most Valuable Politician). Click through to check out the video, captured by Ryan Fila (and edited by Madrigal).

Image: Ryan FIla

Nipples in the Sand

Nipples in the Sand

“Nipples in the Sand” - that's the name of the song I was hired to sing yesterday. It's a ditty that was concocted by the intended bday gram recipient and her sister (my customer) when they were kids. The intended recipient is the lead prosecutor at a Colorado courthouse. Her sister (the customer) hoped to surprise / embarrass / make her sibling laugh. She requested a risque costume, so I suggested a stripper cop look – a ballsy move (even for me) considering the venue. Courthouse security staff were unsurprisingly inquisitive when I arrived in cosplay cop garb with my guitar and music stand in hand. But they hesitantly let me in the lobby and called the target recipient down. I launched into the opening line of “Nipples in the Sand” when she appeared: “Walking down the beach one stormy day...” Probably anticipating the approaching, potentially mortifying hook, she shut me down with the quickness. “Thank you. You're great. I'm sure my sister put you up to this, but you can go now.” For the rest of you, here's how the song climaxes:)

“Nipples in the Sand”

Walking down the beach one stormy day
saw a little orange thing and had to say
Nipples in the sand
Nipples in the sand

In lieu of a full IRL delivery, I filmed a rendition of the tune for the customer. She apologized for her sister's rudeness, including this insightful gem: “Maybe she's still traumatized by the dildo I sent to her work.”

"I'm Sorry" Cupid

"I'm Sorry" Cupid

Yesterday's “I'm Sorry” Cupid took awkwardness to a whole new level. I feel sorry for the man that resorts to an “I'm Sorry” singing telegram. It's most certainly a last resort of sorts—a hail Mary. Whether the goal is embarrassing someone, cherishing someone or facilitating laughs, my singing telegram success rate is normally fairly high. “I'm Sorry” telegrams are a different ballgame, though. They bring down my batting average a little. I rarely know what I'm getting myself into. Yesterday was no exception, but I was up for the challenge.

No “I'm sorry” song is a miracle Band-aid for magically curing all relationship woes. Still, I was determined to pick the most appropriate one for the occasion. Elton John's “Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word,” Jackson 5's “I Want You Back” and Chicago's “Hard to Say I'm Sorry” were a few of the contenders. I settled on Sir Elton, rehearsing off and on for hours on end. My [power wheelchair-bound] customer kept calling over and over about one thing or the other. He was obviously nervous - understandably so.

I'd suggested the Cupid costume to tone down the gravity of the situation and inject a little comedy. Make the person you've wronged laugh and there just might be a window of forgiveness to shimmy through. The sender phoned again to say that the recipient wanted him present for the delivery, if I didn't mind postponing for an hour. I didn't, as it gave me even more time to finger my guitar strings and sing. He rang again once I was on the road to let me know he was running even further behind schedule. I wasn't about get irritated with a differently abled gent, so I thanked him for the update and continued on my way.

The recipient resided in a Denver neighborhood called Montbello. Montbello's population is primarily Hispanic and Black. Half naked white guy was on the verge of getting a lot of attention. I parked my car around the corner from the recipient's house and strapped on my feather wings. Not knowing whether the sender was there yet, I decided to walk up anyways. In the driveway, I met the recipient and her friend. Both were seated in power wheelchairs. Even though they likely despised being laughed at, they eagerly giggled at the scrawny man in the adult diaper and wings. Mission at least partially accomplished.

We waited. The initial awkwardness was soon diffused somewhat, as we initiated an entertaining conversation about my job, her relationship with the sender and more. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, a cop car crept up on the opposite side of the street. A 9 News anchorman had once joked on-air that he was “surprised Cupid didn't get arrested.” Still, in eight full years of playing cherub, I'd never once been hassled by police (though I'd been questioned one time in Boulder about impersonating an officer—guilty as charged). Johnny Lawman explained he'd received reports of a half naked man cavorting around the neighborhood. I decided against showing him I was wearing underwear underneath my diaper. He just wanted to make sure I was mentally stable. “That's debatable,” I thought to myself, but wisely kept my mouth shut. He jotted down my name and went on his way. Crisis number one averted.

The man in blue would not be the rudest of Orange's Montbello encounters that day. Yes, I'm referring to myself in the third person for comedic effect—moving right along. A brown SUV with a Hispanic at the wheel inched by next. “That Cupid?” he asked from the window. “Yes,” we both answered (the recipient's friend had been sent to fetch the sender from the bus stop). That answer apparently didn't satisfy his curiosity. He walked up, accompanied by two other men, a few minutes later. Was he worried that the anorexic-looking love messenger was going to overpower him in a fight? “Yous gotta get outta here, that's my brother's house,” he commanded. “This guy a friend of yours?” he asked the soon-to-be recipient (who apparently sublets from his sibling), almost as an afterthought. “Yes,” she said simply, probably realizing it wasn't worth going into great detail with the intimidating Mexican. He proceeded to park his vehicle just across the street and stare at us through the windows for the remainder of my visit.

The wait wasn't over yet. One of the two four-wheeling men called to report they were lost. The recipient would have to go find them. We both agreed it'd be best if I waited in my car until they all returned. More than two and a half hours after the originally scheduled delivery time, I finally walked back to the recipient's driveway. First, the sender paid me—always a plus in these situations. Next, we collectively decided the performance would be better inside the garage (as opposed to the driveway where we'd been waiting all that time). I thought it was a little weird that the recipient's friend was present, but maybe she wanted a wingman. Sir Elton served me well. I sang my heart out, presented the recipient with the dark chocolate I'd purchased at Whole Foods, and made my exit. The kicker? Sender called me the next day to thank me for a job well done.

Matrimony (Ginuwine Derivative)

Matrimony (Ginuwine Derivative)

(to the tune of “Pony” as recorded by Ginuwine)

Sam was just a bachelor
Swiping for a Tinder date
One who could dance on tables
Without even falling off
Lauren was compatible
They went to the Lakefront
Fast forward to Breckenridge
This was the proposition Sam popped:

You're single, let's do it, try it, matrimony
My finger is waiting, come put a ring on it

Nursing's Lauren's day job
Sam, he is an engineer
Super Smash Brothers, he plays
Meanwhile, Lauren's grooming Sage
Lor, she had a goth phase
Way back in the eighth grade
Sam programs irrigation times
Tomatoes growing on the vine

Soon they're gonna get sandy, baby
First they'll show and tell
Then he'll reach for his cocktail
Lurk all over and through her baby
Until they reach the beach
Playing Doctor, Lauren's 'Teach'

Vaccine Champions

Vaccine Champions

(to the tune of “We Are the Champions” as recorded by Queen)

The pandemic arrived
it changed our lives
Webex and masks
No more hugs goodbye

Thought it’d last just weeks
but dragged on for months
we monitored our trend lines for some hope
finally got some

It took four champions, Val’s one
Jo Ree, Melissa and Adam
(to create a) best practice vaccine
at Sky Ridge, you see
They begged and borrowed
from near and from far, oh
Raised the bar

A mere thank you
that wouldn’t do
enlisted a pro
to truly show you

We truly thank you
We know it was rough
But you shined bright like the stars that you are
And made us proud of…

You, you’re the champions, my friends
And you’ll vaccinate til Covid ends
You are the champions, you are the champions
At best practice vaccines,
yes, you are the champions
of Sky Ridge

Gratitude Grams

Gratitude Grams

With Covid cases spiking around the country, and the CDC discouraging holiday travel, Thanksgiving is going to be different for many people this year. But even if you're not heading home for the feast, you can still show your family or loved ones that you care with a virtual singing telegram. While Adam Sandler's “Thanksgiving Song” may be the closest the holiday has to a theme song, we've got a number of other suggestions, including Marvin Gaye's “How Sweet It Is,” Sister Sledge's “We Are Family” and a parody of Gloria Gaynor's “I Will Survive” that's sung from the perspective of the often doomed bird. And if the potential recipients happen to live in the Boulder or Denver area, a socially distanced performance is possible. Time is running out, though, so give us a call today at (303) 931-8466.

Death in Estes Park

Death in Estes Park

Estes Park played a pivotal role in my origin story. I was reminded of the Colorado mountain town's part in my unconventional career last week when a singing telegram customer enlisted me to play Grim Reaper for a fiftieth birthday there. Because I don't get booked there often, I couldn't resist telling her about my history with the place.

When I was fourteen, I attended a Methodist youth retreat in Estes called Up With Youth. An annual talent show was part of the event. One of that year's participants was a fellow fourteen year-old named Kent Lambert. Lambert sang an original song, accompanying himself on the piano. I had an epiphany of sorts during his performance. I’d been studying music since I was four or five. And I was an adept writer who’d dabbled in poetry. Songwriting was basically fusing the two arts. Growing up in a small town, I had never personally known a songwriter before. But I had just witnessed someone my own age perform a tune he'd concocted himself. If he could do it, I rationalized, then I could too. And two years later, I followed in his footsteps, accompanying my rudimentary original song with acoustic guitar. I probably wasn't very good yet, but the thrill was palpable. Plus, I played a Nirvana song in a cabin and one girl said, “If we weren’t at a church camp right now, I’d sleep with you.”

After relaying this anecdote to the customer (minus the Nirvana part), I suggested that writing personalized lyrics would be a phenomenal addition to the planned set list. She was all about it. I utilized the intel she compiled to pen a spoof of The Grateful Dead's “Ripple” for the Deadhead I was about to serenade. And it absolutely killed – pun intended. The dinner party, seated at a balcony table which overlooked the lake, enjoyed the show so much that they invited me to sit down for the remainder of the meal. Later, I popped over to the Stephen King-inspiring Stanley Hotel for some Reaper selfies and a spontaneous bannister slide in front of a ghost tour group.

Sample parody song lyrics:

What were you wearing the first time you met her?
She'll tell you, a memory like an elephant
If you are her pal, you might have a tchotchke
Phoebe from Friends is basically her twin

She's the best wing gal, if there's someone you're into
She will nudge you indiscreetly towards them
'Cause you might be shy, but she's got you covered
Matchmaking is one of her many gifts

If there is a cake that's missing its frosting
It's likely Kris just might be the culprit
nightly snack attacks, take the shirt off of her back
But there's no chance of sharing her ice cream

Reaper Image: Michael Hystead

Marc Rebillet & Flamingo Synchronicity

Marc Rebillet & Flamingo Synchronicity

My friends and I attended a bona fide live show last Tuesday night. Crazy, right? The pandemic has gutted the 2020 concert season, but a handful of artists are doing drive-in movie theater tours and “Loop Daddy” Marc Rebillet is among them. For those not in the proverbial loop, Rebillet employs a loop station, keyboard and microphone to improvise beats and songs on the fly. He built his audience via YouTube videos and live streaming in silk robes. Tuesday was night two of Rebillet's two night stand at Fort Collins' Holiday Twin Drive-In. We had originally planned to attend night one (Monday), but one of my singing telegram customers was adamant about having me perform for a 21st birthday in Boulder that night. So I bought tickets for night two to make both feasible.

The Boulder birthday girl's name was Ingrid. Her friends allegedly call her “Ingy the Flamingy.” So the customer asked me if I'd rent a flamingo costume (as that wasn't something that was already in my arsenal). Denver costume shop Disguises had just what the doctor ordered, a bootylicious pink bird suit that had quite possibly been employed in a community theatre production of Alice in Wonderland (who can forget the Red Queen's croquet mallets?). Elsewhere, Rebillet and his tech crew were rocking drive-in theaters around the country. At each stop, Poppa Loop was cooking up the jams from inside a popup tent / green screen booth, enabling his team to seamlessly fuse video and other visual content with a live feed of the robe-sporting musical performer and project it onto the drive-in movie screen(s). Rebillet's VJ busted out footage of real life flamingos at one show, and Daddy did what Daddy does best: riffed on that shit. The result is “I'M A FLAMINGO (LIVE),” which has already amassed over 300,000 views on YouTube. The man has a flock.

I was blissfully unaware of Rebillet's new bird bit. But my friend Kelly attended night one of the Fort Collins' stand, and we were texting off and on throughout the evening. When I mentioned that my friends and I had decided to attend night two (instead of night one), so I could fulfill my flamingo singing telegram duties and still see the show, Kelly brought up Rebillet's new flamingo video. In pre-pandemic times, rental costumes were often due back the following day (which would've been before the following night's Rebillet show). But pandemic hours are currently limited, so I could don the big-beaked beauty at the drive-in show and still get it back to the costume shop on time. I had a hunch Daddy would get a kick out of that. It was serendipity. Synchronicity.

My friend Michelle is currently obsessed with the improv master. Since discovering him a few months ago, she's tuned into his live streams religiously. And every time Rebillet solicits calls from viewers, Michelle is on the phone, furiously dialing and re-dialing – to no avail. But wearing a highly conspicuous / ridiculous costume to a show is a surefire way to get attention. Soon after we arrived, the event photographer was shooting me in the flamingo. The tech team eventually rode up in a golf cart to inform us that they were the ones behind the flamingo footage that had inspired Daddy. They also tipped us off that Rebillet would occasionally interview audience members who were near his green screen booth. Their intel would would serve us well.

We bought face masks with Rebillet's agape mouth on them from merch. Our friend Melinda bought a couple beers. I bought a Beyond Meat burger. We made some new friends. Then we posted up in our camping chairs and waited. What appeared to be a decades-old Red Lobster commercial began playing on the twin screens. It replayed several times – seemingly stuck on an accidental loop – before minor and then violent changes played out between the characters. Rebillet careened around the parking lot in a golf cart to drum up excitement for his set. And off he went, conjuring songs from thin air. The moment of truth was soon upon us. I waddled my bootylicious flamingo over to Rebillet's vicinity. Michelle wasn't far behind, clutching an inflatable flamingo drink holder that I'd lent her for the show. Daddy quickly spotted my bird garb and asked me if I knew about his recent flamingo concoction. I told him I'd rented the suit for a singing telegram the previous evening. Michelle told him that the inflatable cup holder was his kid. Hilarity ensued.

And Michelle finally got her wish.

Song for My Dad

Song for My Dad

“Thank You”

(to the tune of “Thank You” as recorded by Dido)

Building a business with no startup
capital is hard
Fortunately I was born for this
but cash still plays a part
my dad pitches in, he is not rich
but he believes in my art
it means the world, I'm humbled by it
forever in debt

Starving artists, we face obstacles
that's understated
tumors, homelessness, unemployment
“worthless” English majors

this old man's been there through thick and thin
braggin' to strangers
that his son makes a good hooker,
a red-haired her

I want to thank you
for being the best damn dad of my life
('cause there were so many other candidates;)
Oh just to be your son
is getting the best deal of my life

Keeps me fed with his salsa
apple butter, pickles too
Chauffeurs me when my car breaks
even when I'm dressed like a dude
have you seen my new website?
My dad bartered for it with his wife's son
He's a gem and a gentleman

I want to thank you
for being the best damn dad in my life
(though the imaginary one is gaining on ya)
I love bein' your son
despite Trans-Siberian Orchestra, you like;)