Hey Joybell fans!  Here's the final chapter in my AGT saga!  Thanks for following!

Chapter 4

I waited just outside the back stage area for about 10 minutes. There was a guy who fitted me with a mic that I was to wear only in the backstage area. I would have to take it off when I went out on stage, as it would interfere with the mics we set up during our sound check. I should mention that as a contestant, you are video taped all the time. There were cameras in the holding area on us every minute. Even back stage, every movement you make, and every word you say is taped. (And of course, AGT owns all of this footage.)

They finally showed me in to the back stage area. I’ve been in plenty of back stages before, and this one wasn’t much different, except for two main things: one, Nick Cannon, and two, you could see the celebrity judges sitting in their places out front. The back stage was fairly dark, and totally no-frills. You could see the cat walks overhead, the workings for the curtains, the monitors for what was being taped, equipment, cameras, mics, and lots and lots of crew members. I was backstage right, and backstage left had all of my (and the other acts’) equipment. Meg and Miguel, the producers, were there with me, along with the producers for the other acts that were waiting and performing. It was quite crowded. They sat me down to chat with two of the other contestants while we were waiting for our turn. My attention kept wavering from these chats, though as there was a contestant performing the whole time, and I kept hearing the crowd applauding, the crowd booing, the judges’ buzzers. I couldn’t actually hear the performers very well. And I was all up in my own head with the pending performance, and these noises—especially the buzzers—added to my anxiety big time! I was trying to remember what the producer said about the procedures, and what to expect: Just before we left the holding area he said, “The stage hand will bring you a mic to talk to the judges before you play. Go out and stand on the big red X. Remember this—the celebrity judges are highly paid and highly opinionated. At this point in the competition you will need a ‘yes’ vote from all four of them. No majority here—it’s all or nothing. But if you hear a buzz, don’t worry about it. Keep performing. If you hear two buzzes, keep going. Three, keep going. But if you hear four buzzes, you have to stop playing. After you’re done performing you go back to the big red X and stand there and talk to the judges and get your votes. And remember, out of 100,000 contestants, you are one of only about 800 that made it this far. You can be proud of this accomplishment! Also remember you have a good chance of being seen by millions of viewers, and this exposure can be great for you, even if you don’t make it to the next round in Vegas. Talk to the judges. Argue with them, if you want. Stand up for yourself and make your voice heard.” So I’m trying to keep all this in mind, and nerves are right up there, and Nick Cannon is talking to me, asking me questions about what I’m going to do, and I didn’t tell him I was playing “Like a Virgin” because Meg said to keep it a surprise for the judges, and Heidi and mom and Kirt are there supporting me (although Heidi is a bit gaga over Nick Cannon!) When it finally got to be my turn, they took the mic off me and I walked out there and stood on the big red X.

My eyes gravitated straight to Howie Mandell. I really didn’t know the others except by reputation, which wasn’t that encouraging. I thought of Howard Stern as kind of a hard guy, a bit crude and rude; I thought of Heidi Klum as a model (what does she know about music, anyway?) and the “clueless” one of the group; I didn’t really know Mel B, because I don’t know the Spice Girls, but she was the only musician in the group; but I had seen Howie in Mt Clemens last year, and I thought of him as good natured and a nice guy. I found myself looking right at him and saying, “HI!”. He gave me a huge smile and a huge, “HI!” right back! He asked about the bells, and I gave him my speech about having 37 handbells, usually played by a group of 10 or 11 people, and told him how I had written my own arrangement for the bells and the orchestrational accompaniment on my digital keyboard. He seemed intrigued! The other judges let us talk. I felt like it was just nervous rambling on my part! But I felt like he was trying to put me at ease when he said, “Great! Let’s see what you have for us!”

I was ready to hit the “play” button on my keyboard and begin, but a stage manager held up his hand and said to wait. Evidently there was a technical problem, lighting, sound—I never found out. But I had to stand there with my finger on the button in front of the judges and all those people in the bright spotlights and just….stand there! I got to thinking about it later. When I start my show I like to come out and start playing. I don’t talk first—I just come out ringing. It’s part of the timing of the show. I think it’s important to the “wow” factor. Anyway, I’m sure this horrible silence lasted at least a minute. Maybe two. It was an eternity, anyway. I started doubting. I had a sudden impulse to turn the keyboard volume down, but I resisted it. We did our sound check—just leave it alone! I was sure my jacket was riding up in the back. Crazy thoughts! Finally I got the go-ahead, and I hit the button.

I played through the first chorus of the song and the crowd started clapping along. That was extremely encouraging! New York City loves me!! I started into the first verse—all was well! I was smiling large and jumping around totally happy. And then bursting into my utopia came the unmistakable, undeniable, utterly obnoxious, out of tune with my beautiful song, sound of the dreaded buzzer. Now I don’t know how many of you are handbell soloists, but maybe you can imagine the amount of concentration it takes. That awful buzzer is a major distraction! But I remembered that the producer said to not worry about it—just keep going. It was hard, but I managed to keep my concentration and did not miss a note. I kept going. I wasn’t smiling as much after that, maybe, but I was still doing a good job. But I started into the final chorus and got another buzz. I only had about 15 seconds left of my song, so I finished it up. I don’t actually know if I made a mistake or not. My mind was a bit mushy at this point. But I remembered to go back out and stand on the big X, and the stage hand brought me a mic and I heard from each of the judges. First thing I did was look up and see who buzzed me. It was Howard Stern and Heidi Klum. Mom and family told me later that Howard buzzed first. Nick Cannon came out to get the judges comments started, but I barely saw him. Howie was first. He was very nice, actually. He wasn’t one of the buzzers, for one thing. And he said, “I have never seen anything like that in my life before! I feel ‘Like A Virgin’!” Again, he consciously or unconsciously put me more at ease. His comment was that he couldn’t tell the difference between the keyboard track and the bells. I did actually say something to him about being proud of my “blend”. Mel B was also pretty nice to me. And she recognized that what I played had a high level of difficulty. But she also commented about my sound. Too much accompaniment. Then came Heidi Klum. She was the first nasty one. She said my performance lacked energy, and that it was the longest 90 seconds she had had to sit through that night. I looked at her like she was crazy. I mean, my feet left the floor a couple of times, and everything! All I could say to here was, “Really.” and shake my head incredulously. But the real nasty guy was Howard Stern. He said my act was boring, he didn’t like that I never looked up at the audience, my arrangement was too repetitive, and a bunch of other criticisms that sort of flew over my head. The one thing I remember clearly was that he actually said that handbells had the most annoying sound he’d ever heard. I just said that I had to disagree with him on that. Then Nick asked Howie for his vote, then Mel, then Heidi, then Howard. All no. Two buzzers and four “nos”.

And then it was over. I turned to my right, but there was no one to give my mic back to, so I turned back to my left and went off stage with it. Nick Cannon was the first person I saw. He put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Don’t listen to them. You’re terrific! And don’t stop playing!” Meg said she was “so sorry”, and Miguel, well, I just remember his stupid grin. Someone took the mic away from me. Kirt and my Heidi and mom were there, but I can’t remember what they said. A camera man approached me and asked me to go over what the judges had said, and what I thought of them. I couldn’t think very well, but I was a little proud of myself later when I told my sister what I said and I saw her reaction. I said, “Well Howie was very nice, and so was Mel, but Heidi was mean, and Howard was just….annoying!”

By this time it was 9:00 PM, and I was thoroughly exhausted.

A stage hand took us around the back to the other side of the back stage so we could get our equipment. I felt a little dazed and punch drunk as I put the bells in their cases and Kirt and I packed up all our things. One of the stage hands told me the same thing Nick said about my act, only using a bit more “colorful” language! We got everything on the cart, and Heidi and Kirt took it out the back way, and a stage hand came to guide mom and me back to the holding area so I could get all my stuff. But he didn’t know where he was going. Granted, it was a huge building, but you’d think they’d allot this task to someone who knew their way around! We ended up taking the longest route possible to get back to the holding area. I bet we walked for 15 minutes. My feet were killing me!!

We finally got back to the holding room and I found my belongings, and went to check out. They gave me $50.00 for my promised meal allowance and a form to fill out to get reimbursed for my travel expenses. Another person told me how wrong the judges were, and how great I was. We walked back to our hotel. Everyone was hungry, so I went with them and tried to eat a salad. I paid enough for it—I figured I should at least eat it! But I didn’t get too much down. My sister, Vicky and her husband, John and her son, Brian had been in the audience. They sat there about 3 hours until it got to be my turn. They told me stuff I couldn’t see from my vantage point on stage. Vicky told me that when they started the taping and introduced the celebrity judges, Howard answered the “how are you” question with a very crude remark involving his crotch, so I felt my instincts were right about him, anyway. Vicky also told me that as soon as Howard buzzed me, Nick came out on stage (behind me—I couldn’t see him), and threw his arms out and down and mouthed, “But Howard—it’s ‘Like a Virgin’!” as if to say, “What in the hell are you thinking??”. That made me feel slightly better, too.

But all I wanted to do was go home. It’s my go-to place when I’m upset. But we went up to our room. It was nearly midnight by this time, the room was paid for, and I knew we could leave in the morning.

I did sleep for a couple of hours, but got up around 2:00 or so and wrote in my diary. I had time to process the experience and I kept thinking. Too much thinking keeps you awake! My main thought was that they messed up my sound. They had the keyboard too loud, the treble bells too loud, the bass bells too soft, and the middle bells not at all. At least, that’s what I kept getting out of the judges’ comments. I was filled with regrets for not doing a better stage check. But I had put my trust in the professionals. I started to realize how unrealistic this was. I’ll bet you anything none of them had ever miked a handbell in their lives. Probably never even saw one up close before. Later, when mom and Kirt and Heidi and I talked about it I found out that they didn’t like the sound at all during our stage check. But they never said anything. I got mad at them all later! But now, several months after the event, I realize that the judges remarks conflicted with each other. Howie said he couldn’t tell the bells from the keyboard, and Howard said the bells were too loud and super annoying.

My only consolation was that I may still get on TV, and millions of people would see a handbell solo. But it was nearly 2 months before the AGT season began. The first show was set to air on May 27, and I didn’t know if I would get on that show, or a subsequent show, or not get any air time at all. I did email Meg to find out, but she said they don’t actually know who will be on a taped show until a week before it airs. She said I would get an email letting me know. And she was right. I got an email from her on May 21, which was like a form letter, addressed to me and several other contestants, saying I would be on the show that aired May 27.

Then I started to really get nervous. My biggest fear was that they would make me look like a clown. They had hours of video footage of me—much of it when I wasn’t aware I was being filmed. They can put all that into whatever context they want, purely based on their definition of “entertainment value”. I was a total wreck all week. Finally the night of May 27 arrived, and I made Kirt sit next to me and watch the show. I don’t watch much television, and when I do it’s usually something I tape so I can watch it without the commercials, and at a time at my own convenience. But I couldn’t wait that long. I watched the whole show live, annoying commercials and all, torturing myself the whole time with projections of imminent public ridicule. This feeling intensified severely when one of the acts came on—a singer who got four buzzes within the first 15 seconds. They did everything they could to make him look as foolish as possible. I just couldn’t shake the thought that maybe that’s what Meg wanted me for all along—clown material. And I found it hard to be proud that I was one of 800 who made it out of 100,000 contestants when this guy made it, too. Speaking as a musician I can safely proclaim that he had no talent whatsoever! What in the hell was he doing getting all this air time? They actually let him do his whole song, even after he had been buzzed. Finally they showed my act. Well, they showed about 15 seconds of my act in a video montage of losers who got buzzed. They decided to air Heidi Klum’s comment about how bored she was, and in the clip of Howard Stern watching me play, they showed him smiling like he liked it! And in the clip of Howie they showed him with such a confused look of unreality, like he wasn’t sure he was really seeing someone actually playing a bunch of bells. And he was the one who was the nicest to me! Reality TV my butt!

So that’s where it ended. All those months of writing and practicing, all those heart-skipping moments when I’d see an AGT email in my inbox, all those hours of nervous waiting in the holding and backstage areas, all the thrill and agony of the performance, and it came down to a 15 second clip and they never even said my name.

So I have decided that what the judges said about me doesn’t really mean anything. It took me weeks to come to this conclusion. I can’t tell you how many nights I went to bed playing it over and over, that bright stage permanently imprinted on my retinas, hearing the buzzers and bad comments, and feeling so bad, and how many mornings I woke up and all that was the first thing on my mind. It really dominated my thoughts for weeks, making normal tasks very difficult. I just felt so humiliated. Performers are ego creatures, to be sure, and this big a blow to my ego was a bit overwhelming. I felt my career was halted, I had let the handbell world down, and I didn’t know what to do with myself: basically all the major overreaction stuff. It took a long time to put it into a more realistic perspective.

Some people have said that I should try again, but I don’t think I will. One thing I have learned from this experience is that I don’t really want my show to be a Las Vegas act. If I was a singer, guitar or piano player, I could have a lot more shows than I book now. But handbells don’t fit comfortably into the entertainment industry; at least not yet. But every time people like me work up the courage and do something like this, it brings more and more attention to the handbells. Maybe some day they will be treated like a real instrument!