Hearts of Gold
After the show and the departure of parents, the musicians lingered. One of the pianists sat down and played Jeff Buckley's 'Hallelujah.' All the remaining students in the hall stopped, circled the piano, and started belting out the lyrics. Swaying together with a mixture of laughing and singing, nobody cared that my poor singing ability was only exacerbated by my cold. The song ended and another pianist wanted to do a duet of 'Georgia on my Mind' with the saxophone player. Initially, the sax player turned him down; until everybody in the hall hugged him and wouldn't let go until he agreed to play. The pianist put on his Ray Charles sunglasses and did his best impression as the two of them blew away the remaining audience with their impromptu performance. With a big grin, the girl to my left elbowed me as she goaded me to sing along. I laughed and the person next to me laughed as we began to stumble through the lyrics.
Tonight, I take back every bad thing I've said about St. Johns. It was Johns' semiannual Arts of Gold fundraiser for the orphanage in South Africa where a handful of Johnsmen and Jets help out every year. A college of 160 people produced some astounding talent. From a soprano singing Schubert to a saxophone rendition of Flight of the Bumble Bee to a cutting edge avant-garde violin piece to a full choir singing one of our rugby songs to a beautiful self-composed rock ballad to a Monty Python sketch to an Oscar Wilde excerpt, every bit of the show was impressive. I've been sick all weekend, but watching my friends, who had hidden their talent, bring shivers to everyone in the audience felt great. But the talent isn't what really made me happy. It was the love. St. Johns has a reputation for being full of boozing bludgers; I just wish our college could show the face of the smiling Soprano to the world instead of the mug of the drunk naked boy being pushed down a hill in shopping cart. We really are more of the former than the latter. I swear.
Tonight, I take back every bad thing I've said about St. Johns. It was Johns' semiannual Arts of Gold fundraiser for the orphanage in South Africa where a handful of Johnsmen and Jets help out every year. A college of 160 people produced some astounding talent. From a soprano singing Schubert to a saxophone rendition of Flight of the Bumble Bee to a cutting edge avant-garde violin piece to a full choir singing one of our rugby songs to a beautiful self-composed rock ballad to a Monty Python sketch to an Oscar Wilde excerpt, every bit of the show was impressive. I've been sick all weekend, but watching my friends, who had hidden their talent, bring shivers to everyone in the audience felt great. But the talent isn't what really made me happy. It was the love. St. Johns has a reputation for being full of boozing bludgers; I just wish our college could show the face of the smiling Soprano to the world instead of the mug of the drunk naked boy being pushed down a hill in shopping cart. We really are more of the former than the latter. I swear.