Q: What do you call a self-absorbed soprano?
A: MiMiMiMiMi.
(Mimi is the diva in Puccini’s La Boheme.)
In a different vein, I recently watched the movie Florence Foster Jenkins. The story, for those you haven’t seen it, is like a musical “The Emperor Has No Clothes”. Florence Foster Jenkins was a socialite with a horrible voice who gave concerts that were received to great acclaim, even the NY newspaper arts critics being kind. So I watched the movie and laughed and cried.
As I was driving home I started thinking about my own singing in church. After Mass I will often get people come up and say how they liked my voice. But what if they’re only Florence Foster Jenkins-ing me? I’m not a choir member, but I sing in the congregation. I don’t sing loudly, but I do sing confidently. Maybe I also sing poorly, and they’re all just trying to make me feel good! I have no answer to this. But better to sing than to mumble. And I like singing. So I’ll continue to sing, and hope it encourages others to sing, even if to drown me out.
StG
Off the top, prohve-uh-loan, sung to the tune of Kodachrome 
I’m a newspaper copy editor. After having corrected this error or that error for the millionth time, I can’t help but start wondering if everyone else is right and I’m completely delusional. Frequently, I can find relief by thumbing through my dear, dear Associated Press Stylebook, but sometimes even that doesn’t have the answer I need.
Everyone else is right and you are completely delusional. More certainly so if you work for The New Yorker.
Pssst. . . . the Islets of Langerhans.
