Some talents are more democratic than others -- singing, for instance.

When I was in sixth grade and trying to sing with a choir, the music teacher singled me out and sent me back to my home room. I was booted from the choir. Unceremoniously. Goodbye.

It happened again in Sunday school, about the same time, when the choral director walked among us while we were singing and fingered me as the discordant one and dismissed me.

It was humiliating both times, of course, but also illuminating. I really couldn't sing. Couldn't carry a tune. It was a genuine surprise to me. I'd grown up listening to music on the radio and had always sung along, often at the top of my voice, and not just in the shower. I also knew all the words!

Lo these years later, it still stings, but I can't blame those teachers. They were trying to assemble a group of students who could sing together, and I was the sour note that kept the ensemble from sounding good together. Sure, they could have been more diplomatic, assuring me that I probably had other gifts that would someday serve me well, but that wasn't their job. I couldn't sing, so I was out. Period.

The ability to sing is one of those democratic talents that are visited on the worthy and the unworthy alike, indiscriminately. I have encountered many people in my life who could sing, but almost none looked on it as anything special. They just liked to sing and did it in their churches or with friends at parties or wherever. It was, to them, a throwaway talent. Something they could do, but no big deal.

To me, it would have been a big deal. I wanted to write songs and sing them, but once I realized I couldn't sing, I gave up writing songs. Of course there are people who can't sing who write songs anyway -- for others to sing -- but I was so dismayed that I couldn't carry a simple tune that I stopped trying to write songs. If I couldn't sing my own songs, why bother?

I'm sure there are lots of talents -- athletic or artistic or musical -- that are scattered among us and that go un-recognized because those who have them are otherwise occupied trying to earn a living, but the one that galls me is singing.

I once asked some professionals at a music fest in Aspen why I couldn't sing, and they all listened to me talk and said they couldn't detect any problem with my speaking voice that should keep me from singing. They all said my voice was well-modulated (whatever that means). I once took a music lesson from a local professional, and she was similarly baffled -- but agreed that I couldn't match my voice to the notes she was playing on the piano.

Well, shit. I can't sing. What a bummer.

I love music, from country to rock to folk-- and I still know all the words -- but I can't carry an f-ing tune. Not fair!

Yes, I'm being small here, but it bugs me that the one talent I really wanted was denied me. I always imagined myself playing a guitar and singing my poignant songs in some cafe where a music producer had stopped in for a late-night drink and heard me and signed me to his label.

When I first heard Bob Dylan sing, I was astonished at how rough his voice sounded, but he wrote songs that stuck in the mind, and he could carry a tune. Not well, but well enough. A lot better than me.

So, I ask you music people out there: what is it that keeps some of us who can speak well, even before audiences, even to applause, from being able to sing? What's the secret?

Is it some kind of affinity for a tone? A kind of musicality that is in-born? I had a cousin who was kind of a jerk who turned out to be sort of a piano prodigy. I don't get it.

It's not just singing, of course. Looks are another democratic gift. So are athletic skills. I knew a girl in high school who was impossibly pretty, could have been a model or a TV star, but who ended up making porno movies. I knew a boy who could hit a baseball further than anyone else but who never pursued that dream. And -- back to my pet peeve -- I know lots of people who can sing but who spend their gift around the piano at Christmas.

Life is a wonder, no? I guess the lesson is to do the best with what you're given, and don't worry about those who are given more but who don't know how to use it.

I'm thinking I ought to write a song about this. But who would I get to sing it? Not me.

Stay tuned.