Sunday, June 07, 2009

A funny thing happened...

I'm watching the Tony Awards, and I can't help thinking that the world would be a much better place if we did more singing and dancing. Preferably at the same time.

Watching the ceremony on TV is a victory in itself, for me. I can't remember the last time--maybe never?--that I made a mental note to watch the Tonys and then actually remembered to sit down and watch them. So, good job there, self.

For fifteen years, at least, I have thought that I would like--in a completely vague and unrealistic way--to be a professional chorus member. (Before that, I wanted to be an actor, with lines and possibly whole songs to myself, but that was before I realized that I may actually have negative stage presence, and a passable singing voice even on a good day.) I don't want a speaking part; I don't want to sing alone in front of anybody that doesn't answer to the name of Sherlock. I just want to dress up, learn complicated choreography, and belt it out with the rest of the group. And, yeah, I know: poverty and competition and years of training and endless drama of the non-staged variety. It can't be easy. But even when it isn't easy, it's got to be at least a little bit fun. They wouldn't be doing it if it weren't.

The opening number for the Tonys is a medley from all of the nominated musicals; this year's ended with "Let the Sun Shine In," first by the cast of Hair and then incorporating everybody else. It was amazing, and knowing as I do the sensation of choral singing, I know what they were thinking. They were thinking, "Dang. We sound good." Which they did, even through 300 miles and my TV set, enough to make me want to help them out with my own mad, imaginary chorus-member skillz. So I've decided to issue an invitation: Broadway, any time you would like me to join you--you know, just for the weekend--I believe I could clear my schedule. Until then, I will be over here in the corner with the Wicked soundtrack on repeat and practicing the three tap-dance steps I know (shuffle, ball-change, fuh-lap! fuh-lap!) over and over. And over. Call me!

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