Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Wednesday
Ok. How do I tell this story?
I was in Show Choir.
We sang and danced. I liked singing. I didn't mind dancing. I liked the attention I got from the girls in the class. One semester in my junior year, show choir was the only class I didn't fail.
In show choir we'd travel a little bit. To Disney, to a retreat in the north Georgia mountains. And we traveled to a show choir festival near Macon.
The festival was a proper affair. There were schools from all over Georgia and Florida bused in to compete in the group and solo performance categories. The Middle Georgia College show choir would close out the festival supported by a full orchestra.
There was never a chance we were in contention. These were big crews with 20 members and fancy costumes, they had kick lines and raz mataz! We were small and lopsided, all tenors and sopranos. Our jazz hands were meek and we sang quietly over canned music with backing vocals. I couldn't wait to get off the stage and hunker down to watch the other schools.
The group that won must have had 30 kids, stacked on risers. They wore black sequined hats and white gloves that popped in the bright stage lights . They moved as a single organism on stage. Every box step was perfect. Every bladed hand was at the same gorgeous 45 degree angle.
It was the end of the day. They'd announced the group winners and we'd watched each school rush the stage for their trophy. And we cheered for them. Then it was time for the final three singers in the solo category to perform. The first two vocalists had the misfortune of selecting the same song. It was the year of Shania Twain. And boots. And jean skirts. One of them wore a cowboy hat and we all thought that might put her over the top.
We were tired by the time the last solo singer walked on stage. It had been a long day. Some of the sparkle was beginning to fade in the grand auditorium. The college show choir would perform next and then we'd pile back into our buses and head home. The orchestra was setting up in the pit as quietly as they could.
From where we were sitting in the balcony the last soloist seemed very small. He must have been a freshman, but looked even younger and he fidgeted nervously waiting for his music. He waited. And waited. The whole room started to buzz. The silence was painful. The poor kid, we thought, and watched his eyes searching the crowd for help. He looked to the sound booth. The student at the controls put his hand up in a gesture to please wait, and we all held our breath. He pointed to the singer and the first melodic lines of The Colors of the Wind filled the hall. He began to sing, but he was off to a bad start. His voice was shakey, unsure. In mid verse the backing CD made a squaking sound and abruptly stopped. His voice trailed off.
Collectively we all looked between the sound engineer who was shaking his head, and the blond hair boy on stage. He'd begun pacing. Looking for a way off the stage. The room began to buzz again with a mix of empathy and nervous energy. After a confused moment the boy turned to leave the stage and a reached up from the orchestra pit and waved. "Excuse me" said the voice, quietly, "but is this your song?" And all at once the members of the Middle Georgia College orchestra began to play.
For a moment we were all stunned. What was happening? But they were playing the intro to The Colors of the Wind. It was perfect! And we erupted! Clapping and whistling and hooting our pleasure. And the boy began to sing. Feeding on the energy of the crowd he sang clear and true. No note misplaced. The boy with his new found confidence and 30 piece backing orchestra slayed the crowd and tore the roof off the building. We couldn't believe what had happened.
When he finished singing, and the audience finally quieted down, they brought the other 2 singers back on stage. Poor Shania with the hat knew she'd lost. They named the boy the winner and the crowd exploded all over again.
And then it was time for the college show choir to perform. A few people laughed, but we all cheered as they began their opening number, The Colors of the Wind.
I was in Show Choir.
We sang and danced. I liked singing. I didn't mind dancing. I liked the attention I got from the girls in the class. One semester in my junior year, show choir was the only class I didn't fail.
In show choir we'd travel a little bit. To Disney, to a retreat in the north Georgia mountains. And we traveled to a show choir festival near Macon.
The festival was a proper affair. There were schools from all over Georgia and Florida bused in to compete in the group and solo performance categories. The Middle Georgia College show choir would close out the festival supported by a full orchestra.
There was never a chance we were in contention. These were big crews with 20 members and fancy costumes, they had kick lines and raz mataz! We were small and lopsided, all tenors and sopranos. Our jazz hands were meek and we sang quietly over canned music with backing vocals. I couldn't wait to get off the stage and hunker down to watch the other schools.
The group that won must have had 30 kids, stacked on risers. They wore black sequined hats and white gloves that popped in the bright stage lights . They moved as a single organism on stage. Every box step was perfect. Every bladed hand was at the same gorgeous 45 degree angle.
It was the end of the day. They'd announced the group winners and we'd watched each school rush the stage for their trophy. And we cheered for them. Then it was time for the final three singers in the solo category to perform. The first two vocalists had the misfortune of selecting the same song. It was the year of Shania Twain. And boots. And jean skirts. One of them wore a cowboy hat and we all thought that might put her over the top.
We were tired by the time the last solo singer walked on stage. It had been a long day. Some of the sparkle was beginning to fade in the grand auditorium. The college show choir would perform next and then we'd pile back into our buses and head home. The orchestra was setting up in the pit as quietly as they could.
From where we were sitting in the balcony the last soloist seemed very small. He must have been a freshman, but looked even younger and he fidgeted nervously waiting for his music. He waited. And waited. The whole room started to buzz. The silence was painful. The poor kid, we thought, and watched his eyes searching the crowd for help. He looked to the sound booth. The student at the controls put his hand up in a gesture to please wait, and we all held our breath. He pointed to the singer and the first melodic lines of The Colors of the Wind filled the hall. He began to sing, but he was off to a bad start. His voice was shakey, unsure. In mid verse the backing CD made a squaking sound and abruptly stopped. His voice trailed off.
Collectively we all looked between the sound engineer who was shaking his head, and the blond hair boy on stage. He'd begun pacing. Looking for a way off the stage. The room began to buzz again with a mix of empathy and nervous energy. After a confused moment the boy turned to leave the stage and a reached up from the orchestra pit and waved. "Excuse me" said the voice, quietly, "but is this your song?" And all at once the members of the Middle Georgia College orchestra began to play.
For a moment we were all stunned. What was happening? But they were playing the intro to The Colors of the Wind. It was perfect! And we erupted! Clapping and whistling and hooting our pleasure. And the boy began to sing. Feeding on the energy of the crowd he sang clear and true. No note misplaced. The boy with his new found confidence and 30 piece backing orchestra slayed the crowd and tore the roof off the building. We couldn't believe what had happened.
When he finished singing, and the audience finally quieted down, they brought the other 2 singers back on stage. Poor Shania with the hat knew she'd lost. They named the boy the winner and the crowd exploded all over again.
And then it was time for the college show choir to perform. A few people laughed, but we all cheered as they began their opening number, The Colors of the Wind.
# posted by joel @ 6:54 PM 
