Remembering the "Boss"

We all call her “Boss,” for that is her name. No, like literally, Sister Bossard is her name. But the meaning behind the endearing moniker is far deeper than just her legal surname; she seriously is just soooo boss. She’s so cool. So hip. Absolutely everyone who knew her here on earth loved the bejeebers outta her, and I am honored to say that I am one of those bejeeber lovers. She was my college professor — a vocal coach of mine. And indeed I do declare that she was my most favorite vocal coach that I ever had up there in the Gem State, as a music minor.

College was kind of a long time ago; it’s kind of a blur now. As I’m sitting here, I’m trying to piece together the timeline of my musical journey as far as my four-year university experience is concerned. Besides the vital academic requirements I had to accomplish in order to obtain my Bachelor’s degree, and besides my library job, my church callings, my social life, my sports-official duties, and my extracurricular leadership responsibilities, I filled much of my time with on-campus musical performance.

Before I go back to the beautiful topic of Boss, allow me to describe a portion of my aforementioned timeline that features highlight after highlight of what, to me, were outstanding and incredibly fun musical opportunities. I don’t know how I got to be one of the lucky students who snatched all these ops, but I’m not displeased about it at all. First thing first, I auditioned for a show called Grand Pianos Live and made it onto the program. I played and sang a song from Toy Story 2 called “When Somebody Loved Me.” For the performance I was dressed up like the cowgirl Jessie, with braided hair, plaid shirt, cowgirl hat and everything. It was all so much fun.

Not too long after that, I somehow ended up being in the Broadway Revue. (Contrary to what was popular belief, it wasn’t supposed to be spelled “Broadway Review,” and I was the one who put my foot down and told the advertisers to start spelling it correctly on the posters…or else, hahaha.) I was Christine Daae from Phantom of the Opera, my friend Bubba was the Phantom, and he in his white mask and I in my great dress sang a spectacular duet together. I hit the flippin’ high note at the end of the song (I still can’t believe it) and the crowd roared in delight.

And then I auditioned for Guitars Unplugged with my two gal friends, and we made it into the preliminary show, got a swarm of affirmative votes, and we moved on to the “Best Of” show. I didn’t know how to play guitar, so I played the “drums” on a huge plastic trash can, while I left the guitar work to my friends. We graced the student body with some smooth Collective Soul. The ginormous crowd roared again.

The same two friends and I tried out for Guitars Unplugged again the next semester. Made it into the preliminary show. We were on a high. I was on a high. We were prepped to make it into Best Of again. Didn’t happen, though. Wah.

Then I tried out for Grand Pianos Live again. Didn’t make it in.

Then I tried out for a community fireside choir. Didn’t make it in.

Then I tried out for a top-notch collegiate choir. Didn’t make it in. Now that one broke my heart.

And then I met Boss.

Upon my meeting her for the first time, I felt like I was in a phunky phase where I was fallen from off a horse. I felt like I had been rejected so many times from things that I thought I really wanted to do. I felt like I was continually being denied chances to chase dreams. But soon I realized that those were flimsily frivolous dreams that would hardly affect my destiny.

The longer I ponder my knowing Boss, the more I get to thinkin’ that Boss did affect my destiny. I honestly think she did — very subtly, but I’m pretty sure that’s the case.

What she did was help me hop back onto my horse. She helped me gain a solid understanding that singing is for fun. It’s not solely a talent to be possessed that can land you glamorous minutes in the limelight. Infinitely more importantly, singing is for the soul. That’s what Boss explained to me through her kind n’ krazy words and example.

Of course, I knew that I loved to sing because I loved to sing. I mean, I knew that I loved to sing because it made me feel good inside. But I think, during that most recent chapter in my life — the chapter that was chock full of seeming “rejection” and “dejection” — I was failing to remember the true reason why I loved to cultivate my instrument. Boss was placed on my life’s pathway to remind me of my reason. Every meeting with her was full of fun. It was full of her raving about the gloriousness of Linda Eder. It was full of her benevolently and enthusiastically encouraging me to just simply be my best and do my best as I aimed high to constantly achieve my best.

She didn’t emphasize on having me stress over mastering meticulous vocal techniques. (In fact, lots of times that method of teaching is counterproductive with me. Back in the day, after I had already been practicing piano for 11 years, I quit lessons because the meticulous “mastering” was really starting to hinder my progress. While at the last piano lesson I ever was a pupil in, the piece-in-study was a challenging Chopin valse. I kept on not being able to get the hang of the song, because I was so stressed about impressing my teacher. A couple of weeks after I quit, however, I sat back down at the piano, pulled out the same song, and played it stupendously. Anywaysss…)

Anyway, so yeah, the laid-back and gentle (yet ultra-riotously hilarious) way that Boss taught her students was just what the doctor ordered for me. It helped me to earnestly admire my instrument for what it was and to take good care of it. Boss’s coaching methods aided all her students in gaining (or, in my case, regaining) confidence. I know I said earlier that she indirectly helped me, in the personal secret corners of my heart and mind, to not sweat over not snagging all the spotlight slots I desired. But she did seem to see something special in me that was apparently worthy of a shot of singing in a fancy NATS Recital (National Association of Teachers of Singing). After a somewhat long while, Boss helped me hop back onto the horse of standing up and singing in front of an audience again. For the Recital, she had wanted to know if I’d like to perchance take one of her favorite Linda Eder songs and perform that? In my mind, I was like No, because I still have no clue who Linda Eder even is, hehehe… I’m sure she’s great, but… “I think I’d like to do my favorite Josh Groban song.” She smiled and liked the idea, and I ended up singing “Remember When It Rained.” Best solo I had ever given in my lifetime. As what happened back in my “glory days” on campus, the crowd tastefully roared (tastefully, due to the environment). And I smiled. And felt great. And silently thanked Boss for helping me feel happy in my element again.

I once said in this post that Boss affected my “destiny.” I feel like my destiny, as far as music goes, is more visible now than it ever used to be. I’m not 100% positive that what I’m doing right now musically is what my full-blown destiny is, but it sure is a dreamy dream come true. It’s a dream in which I get to sing because I love to sing, and I love to sing with the people I sing with, and I get to help bless people all over the globe with the work we do. I couldn’t ask for a neater nor sweeter opportunity than this one that I’ve got.

I have a boatload of amazing people in my circles of friends who specifically have helped me recognize my talents and dedicate myself to developing them. I am forever thankful for these terrific men and women, and Boss is definitely numbered among them. As of yesterday, she's gone on to heaven to be with her God and her dear husband again, and to reclaim her star-performer place in the angelic choir. She will be deeply missed, but she also will be fondly remembered as one of the best friends that any of us Boss-fans have ever had.