Okay, so a while back I had an adventure, but I kept hoping for a different ending, so I never blogged it. I think the case is pretty well closed by now, so here goes! [editor's note: I just started typing and stopped when the story was done. Turned into a novel. Get comfy!]
See, there's this kid at work who was in The Hale Center Theater in Orem's production of A Christmas Carol last year. I'm a fan of that theater. He suggested I try out for it. I figured if nothing else it'd be good experience and audition practice, so what the heck, I went for it. I really had no idea what I was doing, like how auditions work and such, so I got to the evening of my appointment before I even decided what I was gonna sing. I decided on "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing," which is of course one of Danny Kaye's songs in White Christmas. I've got that book full of Irving Berlin music, and even with all the songs Bing Crosby did, one of the only songs with a cozy range for me was a Danny Kaye one. Who'd've thunk? So I got there, filled out a couple papers and took a picture, waited because they were way behind schedule, I finally got in about exactly an hour later. Pretty uneventful, but still kinda entertaining hour, standing in that crowded hall full of show choir kids.
So I got in, the piano guy reached for my songbook, I gave it to him, and everybody just looked at me. I stared back and them, and finally caught on. "So I just start singing, huh?" They nodded. So I sing, the accompaniest accompanies me. A few measures into it I thought I heard somebody come in through the door behind me, so I looked over my shoulder to see if it was somebody important that wanted me to do something else. Nobody there. Makes a guy wish he hadn't looked away from the jury in the middle of his audtion like he didn't care whether he made it or not. Anyway, I finished singing, they asked if I was sure I didn't want to read for a speaking part, I said I guess I might as well, so I pulled the script they gave me out of my pocket. Did my best to explain in a British accent why Belle should love me and not be bitter that I was spending more time with my money than with her. Alas, I haven't been able to pull off any sort of decent accent since I hit the MTC, and that didn't change for the audition. Nonetheless, I put it down, and the guy that I think owns the theater asked kinda dissappointed-like if I was determined to not have a speaking role. I shrugged and said if they wanted to give me one I guessed I'd take it. They said thanks, I left, that was that.
Chapter 2: Waited and waited and waited and wished I'd taken my hands out of my pockets when I sang and thinking how at least I'd sung pretty, which is good, cause that's what I was banking on in the first place, and waited and waited and gave up most of my hope, then five minutes before Meteorology is over the day after (Friday, it was) they call and leave a message and say I made call-backs. Rock on. Call-backs are Saturday at 9 a.m. Flip. I work then. I get to work the next morning hoping I'll be able to pull off some plan with the other kid who tried out, but it turns out he isn't working that day. Fortunately, the sun isn't there either. In fact it's snowing. Very slow day at work. I mention to my fellow yard-techs that it feels dumb to be sitting there with nothing to be done while I could be auditioning. They agree and tell me to go. So I go inside and casually hypothetically mention it to my supervisor, who tells me, "Oh heck yeah man, go, get out of here!" which I didn't expect, but hey, I gotta do what he says, right? So I go, agreeing to the condition that I bring hot chocolate when I come back. Thirty, forty minutes, right? Ha! That's what I thought. Nope.
Chapter 3: So I get to the theater miraculously easily, took a new route and didn't even get lost. Pull into the parking lot, see all the other kids walking in the door, looking all pretty. I climb out of my car with my oil-stained coat and dirty, holy shirt, Timp hat and steel-toes, feeling a little less classy but a lot more manly than most everybody else there. We go, we wait for the guy with the sheet music to get there, we warm up, we sing Angels We Have Heard on High, altogether, then in quartets as directed, the people go out to consult about who to keep while we learn the next song. It's Ding Dong Merilly on High, a familiar, but a new arrangement to all of us besides the sopranoes, and in fact pretty much the opposite of any bass line I've ever sung to that song. They come back in, name the people they want to keep, I'm one of them, oh joy! So we sing altogether for the lady in charge, then she puts us in quartets again, over and over and over, looks like she's having a hard time deciding on everybody. There are 7 basses, a few more tenors, a few more altoes, and a few more sopranoes, so we basses got to sing several times. Finally she says, "okay, I think I've got it, thanks!" and leaves. And that's the end of it. Didn't even tell us who made it, harsh!
Chapter 4: I go back to work. By the time I get back with the hot chocolate, turns out it's been about three hours. Nobody seemed to mind, apparently I hadn't hardly missed anything. I keep checking my phone throughout the day. I'm feeling pretty hopeful, see? I saw most every other bass had their hands in their pockets every time they sang, so that wouldn't be an issue. I learned the harmony to the new song faster'n they did, sang pretty well I thought, I was feeling good about my chances! I also considered how the kid I worked with, who was actually a tenor, somehow ended up being one of those 7 basses, and he sang once in those finals quartets, while I sang 3 or 4 times, and we sang quite differently, so I figured with better than 1:2 odds, one of us was bound to make it. Other than that there were 4 of those kids who you'd expect to be in most shows in high school and have everybody love them, who sing like tenors who can hit a decent baritone note now and then, as well as a guy called Steve who was probably 30 and a half foot taller than the rest of us, wore a leather jacket, sang quite manishly. Had a certain Barry Carl tone to his voice, actually. I was excited to sing with him for two months. So there were we two genuine basses, four bari/tenors, and one tenor. I was feeling confident! Just kept waiting for that call... and waitin for that call... and boy did I wait. About the wednesday after I gave up the last dredge of hope. The kid I work with never got called either. Now, they kept saying they were looking for a specific sound in the people they chose, and the way I figure, if they didn't want my sound, and they didn't want my coworker's tenor sound, they must have wanted the high-school heart-throb sound and gone with those four guys. But then first off, there wouldn't hardly be anything on the low notes when the choir sang, and second, that would also discount Steve, the guy who got cheers every time he sang at the audition, he was really good! How could they leave him out? And if they left him out, how could they leave me out, being the only other guy who could actually sing like a bass? But they did leave me out, so did they also leave him out? These and other questions have haunted me in the weeks since that audition.
Conclusion: So no go on the show. I was pretty annoyed that I tried out for a role called "Bass" and didn't make it. For crying out loud, it's what I do. But then I remembered once hearing that Charlie Chaplin once entered a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest and lost, and that made me feel better.
The End
