Saturday was better. I hung out with agaysexicon and fuzzyinthehead in the afternoon and had lunch at The Sunroom. Nick had his heart set on picking up the new David Gilmour album, so we hit a few record stores, but all he came up with was The Relative Best of Duran Duran. Neither one of them managed to talk me out of purchasing used copies of Emerson Lake & Palmer's Works Volume 2 or the symphonic score from Edward Scissorhands. Thanks a lot guys.
Later I picked up shimatta1 and we went to see Rockapella at Oregon High School. Yes, you read that right. Rockappella performed at OHS for a Muscular Dystrophy Association benefit. Opening acts were The Blue Notes from OHS and Tangled Up In Blue, which is the women's acappella group from the UW. This is my first time seeing Rockapella, and they didn't disappoint. Rockapella has a very unique style which they more or less created, but which has been adopted as the standard sound for contemporary acappella.
It was a good show. They did a lot of classic R&B/Motown-type standards. I realized as we were watching that none of the singers on stage were part of the group when I fell in love with them. This, of course, didn't stop them from doing the Folgers commercial and the theme from Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, which are the songs that made the original lineup famous. It was a great deal of fun, though. Afterward I picked up the Tangled Up In Blue CD, mostly because it was $10, the Rockapella disc was $15, and I had $11. There's a first-grade math question hidden in there somewhere.
Rockapella got four standing ovations, incidentally. It's been a long time since I've attended a sit-down concert where the performance didn't garner a standing ovation (or two (or seven)), and they seem especially prevalent at school events. You don't need to stand up just because your kid warbled her way Bess, You Is My Woman Now, and once you've done that, standing up for I Loves You, Porgy is kind of redundant. Rockapella deserved a standing ovation for giving an Overture Center performance at the OHS Aud. Did they deserve (or want) one every time it looked like they might be leaving? Probably not.
After the show I went to koriandrkitten's for Saturday Night Frights. Liz showed up, and we watched Night Train to Terror, which was (predictably) incredibly bad. It's one of those movies where several vignettes are strung together with a connecting thread. God and Satan (played by (and I'm not kidding -- this is how they were credited in the end titles) God and Lu Sifer, respectively) are passengers on a train discussing the human condition. The next car is full of the kind of punk rockers your grandparents would get along with (read: not actually punk rockers). The direction is lousy, and the continuity between shots is so terrible that it's often (and accidentally) unclear as to whether you're watching one continuous scene, or whether the narrative just cut to a different time and place. There's some nice stop-motion, though, which is cool if you happen to like that sort of thing. I do, but that's not enough to redeem the film. Those of you who missed it didn't miss anything good.
Today I went to my parents' house, took pictures of puppies, and went to choir practice. I don't think I'm singing with them again, even if I get personally invited back (as I was this season).
I'm feeling increasingly uncomfortable there. Most of the members are middle-aged (or older) and fairly prominent individuals in the community -- realtors, lawyers, teachers, and church organists, and some of the basses have made it quite clear that I'm not welcome to worm my way into their Old-Boy Network. Obviously, "some" isn't the same as "most." I'm talking about a minority, and I got lucky in that our concert standing order places me right in the middle of the people I get along well with. Still, I've been insulted in no uncertain terms about about I "don't belong here." It has nothing to do with my talent or ability. I brought the matter up to a friend who'd sung with the choir a few years ago, and she said that she had dropped out after experiencing the same thing.
The other annoyance is that the one piece I'm really attached to is Randall Thompson's choral setting of Robert Frost's Choose Something Like a Star, and it's been cut from the program because apparently I'm the only one who likes it, apart from director. If the aforementioned realtors, lawyers, teachers, and church organists are to be believed, the text "doesn't make any sense" and (this especially irks me) "words like Fahrenheit and centigrade do not belong in poetry." If you're still reading, you can judge for yourself: here's the original poem, and here's a WMA file of the song.
Anyway, that's my news from the weekend. Nothing über-exciting, but I think that's what I needed.