暖冬cool夏
这里一年四季温暖如春，没有酷暑没有严寒......
前阵子又录了一首K歌《青藏高原》。一个夏日炎炎的日子里，百无聊赖的我把它贴上了微信的朋友圈。表姐听了, 留言道，“歌收藏了，想你，就来听你唱歌”。一个周末晚，表姐表哥在我父母家聚集聊天，表姐发来视频，我的《青藏高原》在父母的客厅里回荡。
想起了自己的孩提时代，小学快毕业时差点被挑了去省越剧团唱戏的我，今日再听自己的歌声，思绪万千。三四十年过去了，我的人生还有多少年？还有三四十年吗？站在岁月的长河回望，岁月不就是一首歌吗？唱走童年，唱走青春，唱着唱着就老了。从“一条大河波浪宽”到今日的《青藏高原》, 人生的路起起伏伏。还记得自己写过一首诗《岁月如歌》，“岁月如歌，唱尽繁华落寞，再回首，月影斑驳”。
时光荏苒已远去。早已不记得自己三四十年前的歌声了，没有录音，甚至小学五年间连照片也没有留下，只有依稀的记忆，夹杂着父辈们的述说，带着怀旧和几分想象，填补着岁月的空缺。现如今，时代不同了，想唱就唱，想录就录。故就此再K歌一曲，让渐渐老去的声音刻在2018年的日历上, 为着曾经心底的喜爱，这份岁月未曾全部抹去的激情，再引吭高歌。
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I was born into a teacher's family in the Cultural Revolution. My growth, likewise my Chinese name, is tinged with the imprint of its era. My father, a Chinese literature teacher, gave me a name that carries no slightest romance, feminine or delicacy for a girl, but a strong revolutionary connotation like hundreds and thousands of newborns at the time.
My hometown is nestled in a southeast part of China. Besieged by mountains on three sides, it has one opening to a big river flowing to the east. Unlike today, where the railroads sprawl nationally, transportations at the time were limited to buses, old shabby buses without air-conditioning. To get out of the place to the capital city, we would have to sit on the hard seats seven or eight hours in a broken-windowed bus, putting up with the heat in the summer, chill in the winter, dust in the dry season and mud in the rainy time, seeing the bus crankily crawl out of the zigzag mountain trails.
The 1970s witnessed a stagnant planned economy across the nation. Like most families, we lived a meager life in our childhood. Rice was not sufficiently supplied, and food stamps to buy fish, meat, and rice, were rationalized to each family (no peasants) as a control. I remember that Mom used to hoard the National Rice Stamp gingerly as a protection of any possible famine years. Hunger was not uncommon. Even when I was at middle school, I often found my stomach rumbling for food in the last classes of the morning.
Isolated and poor as it may sound, life then was mostly carefree. My father, mother, my brother and I lived for some years in a very small unit of about 10-20 square meters on the campus where Mom worked. Recalling the old days, mom would always say that I was a timid girl, who cried easily. But shy or timid I might be, I was often found sneaking out and dancing on tiptoes on the school platform alone, sort of self-taught ballet from what must have watched from the revolutionary opera “White Hair Lady”.
My interest in singing and dancing grew once I started my elementary school. I was a top performer, singing and dancing on stages as well as in fields. It culminated in my fifth grade when a few actresses from the Provincial Yue Opera Troupe came to seek for young candidates. After rounds of tests, I was selected as one of the only two girls in the whole county. Soon the news was spread on the grapevine. Walking on the streets, mom was stopped and congratulated on the rare opportunity of sending her daughter to the capital city of the province. But much to the townspeople's surprise, Mom and Dad turned it down for me. I only remember that mom asked me a couple of times, “Don’t you want to go to the famed West Lake?” Surely, it was not my decision, but my parents’, or to be more precise, it is the predestined fate that put me on a different orbit that parted me from being a Yue Opera singer.
No tapes or pictures have ever left behind to remind myself of how I sang and looked like at the time, except for the fading memory, and the tales from my parents or relatives. Entering the middle school afterwards, I was inundated with study, tests, and the college admission like the rest of us. Years later in mid 1980s, an opera movie《五女拜寿》was premiered, in which the other girl W from our county played a small role. Seeing her among the glamorous actresses in the big poster stung me, stirring up inside a mixed feeling of envy, regrets and longing. My love of singing was mired at the bottom of my heart ever since.
Almost forty years is past. With today’s technology and apps, taping and recording is made so handy and easy. Tuning to the familiar songs makes me not just reminiscent of my old days. The occasional singing from the voice hidden under the winkled neck evokes an undying love that has been etched in the bones.
一个发小，住我家紧隔壁。从小热爱唱歌，天天练，外面拜师，风雨无阻十几年。23岁考上上海音乐学院女高音，一年只受两个学生。毕业进上海歌剧院当独唱演员。后来辞职当手机品牌4S 店当总经理。同时自学十年考到律师资格，现在是事务所合伙人。唱歌的天赋，努力，热爱，机会都有，最后还是放弃唱歌为主业。令人唏嘘。
是不是我们每个人或多或少，或早或晚都要走一些弯路，看上去好像是浪费时间，其实是我们成长的必由之路。大概只有所谓的大牌成功人士才能有眼光能一眼看到几十年后，始终如一地孜孜不倦的努力吧。而我们总是歪歪扭扭地一路走一路学。我想只要我们没有辜负当下，我们也可以问心无愧了，暖冬你说呢？
英文回忆录写得很真挚，打动人心。只能说你命中注定是出国走一条不一样的路， 唱歌还是你心中的爱好而已。 我们可能都有一朵年轻时心中的玫瑰。。。
周末不爬山了，都干些什么呢？周末快乐！
虽然舞台的梦未竟，暖冬姐走的另一条路也有独特的风景，自成一片康庄呢！闲暇之余，想唱就唱，有我们欣赏鼓掌，也是一种圆梦！
一直怕自己说话太直了，是就是是，不是就不是，还真是会造成误会的。你没有误解就好。谢谢迪儿留言，再祝一切安好！
我说我的结，也是和自己的经历有关。以后有机会会和你交流的。
妹妹放心，和妹妹没有任何心结的。
上一次妹妹贴歌，听了，感叹妹妹音色好，音域宽。这一次听，就想起了和妹妹上次的相见，心里暖暖的。
你在燕麦儿那提到心里有个结。对在乎的事，在乎的人，才会有结。我也有的，有些解了，有些还需要时间。
周末快乐！
暖冬的音质很好，青藏高原都能唱！厉害！
再次多谢韭菜美言！
问好暖冬，周末快乐！
尤其是这种偏Private的文章，不上更好，我更多的是想自己记录。谢谢你喜欢英文部分，写英文真是练习的，这种自传体可以写得更生动些。小时候的这件事其实对我有影响的，好像有个结一直没有解开，直到2014年父母来此探亲说起,母亲的一句话“好在没去啊，否则凭你的身高长相，最多只能演媒婆丫鬟之类的”，真是一语中的啊。其实是命运。谢谢燕儿留言，问好！
“一个周末的晚上，表姐和父母聊天，我的《青藏高原》在父母的客厅里回荡”，好温馨的场景，他们大概又提起了暖儿小时候的那段有趣的经历吧。:-) 胆子小害羞，只是表面现像，骨子里的暖儿，是那个在舞台上尽情地载歌载舞，乐于展示自己的女孩儿。
英文版本，以名字的由来开头，切入的视角很有亲和力，一下子就把人带进了那个特殊的年代。尤其欣赏关于自然环境、生活状况的描述，画面感很强。
哈哈哈，暖冬，我记得你前面文章提到过，我还为你的文章没有上首页愤愤不平。
看来我还是小伙子，连壮年都不是。 you make my day.
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暖冬，有时，我也会有如此强烈的感受，我还有这么长的人生岁月吗？随着年龄的增长，各种疾病也会随之而来。但是不想了，过好生命中的每一天，尽量不要留下什么遗憾，但是自己也觉得这也是句不能100%兑现的美好希望。
听到了暖冬的声音，我喜欢这嗓子比你年龄要年轻很多。 谢谢。
祝好
祝好