A Day at the Game

After waking up feeling a little bit groggy and a lot dehydrated, I quickly showered and dressed before either of my compatriots could arise. Then it was off to the Alumni choir rehearsal, which was actually being held at the same time as a classic car show was being held in the parking lot. The alumni "choir" turned out to be about 10 alumni and about 100 Hillsdale choir students. After catching up with Jim Holleman, the director, I entered the room feeling just as itimidated as I did when I entered the room as a student. I don't consider myself a singer, or a musical person, really, and it's hard to shake the feeling that everyone in the room is not only a better singer than I am, but that the person sitting next to me (whoever that person is) is probably a singer on par with Pavoratti or Kelly Clarkston. Thankfully, smoking the one cigarette last night had left me hoarser than the Simpson house mother, and so I had no problem singing bass.

After the choir rehearsal, I felt a bit at loose ends, until I realized that I was supposed to meet my wife and daughter 10 minutes earlier at Central Hall. I dashed from the music building (I always forget its new name) to Central Hall, only to discover that the quad was deserted--it seemed as though they were running late.

Next time: A Day at the Game continued and further thoughts