I’m Herman Cain, freezing up when asked about Libya.
I’m Sarah Palin, who can’t name a single newspaper.
I’m Rick Perry, incapable of stringing together three coherent words during an agonizing 50-second debate meltdown.
Drop-dead, show-stopping blunders. Personal Armageddons that will live in perpetuity on YouTube.
Those were the kinds of thoughts banging around in my head early Saturday afternoon as I waited backstage for my 15 seconds of fame — or infamy — in the spotlight at E.J. Thomas Hall in Akron.
It was the 32nd annual TubaChristmas, and I had been tapped by conductor Tucker Jolly to be the, ahem, guest soloist.
Worst-case scenario: I expel all of my wind into the instrument and, combined with nervousness, pass out cold. As I crash to the ground, my head gets stuck in the bell of the tuba, and the video goes viral.
Well, I managed to dodge that bullet. In fact, I think I actually hit most of my seven notes. Or at least parts of them. They were whole notes, so I could roam around for a while.
Clearly, my standards are quite low. As — even more clearly — are those of Mr. Jolly.
Still, a good time seemed to be had by the 2,900 guests who packed E.J. for the first of two shows. At least 100 more were turned away, lest the fire marshal shut the place down.
The real story was the glorious sound that for more than an hour filled the vast, three-tiered facility. It came not only from 425 musicians — so many that they spilled off the stage into the wings — but also the spectators, who were encouraged to sing along to the classic carols and did so with gusto.
At least most of the time. The selections ranged from the virtually unsingable — Good King What’sHisName — to the no-brainers — Jingle Bells (the one I honked away on).
As usual, the jolly professor assembled an eclectic collection of players, ranging from three 10-year-olds to a couple of retired University of Akron professors whose birth certificates peg them at 85 and 87.
They came from as far away as Florida, Colorado, Utah and Pasadena, Calif.
They came in school groups: from Stow, Southeast, Garrettsville Garfield, a dozen all the way from New Philadelphia and a hefty 26 from Green.
Many folks, both on and off the stage, were first-timers whose ears surely were pleasantly surprised.
“The tuba is seemingly limited,” Jolly said on the eve of the show, “but the fact is you can do anything on the tuba that you can do on any other brass instrument. You can’t hear it as well ’cause it’s low.
“TubaChristmas has helped [the instrument’s reputation]. People come and they expect they’re gonna hear this blob of sound that they can’t discern anything from.”
Hearing is believing otherwise.
The atmosphere isn’t bad, either.
These are not exactly solemn occasions. Audience members shake bells. Tuba players decorate their horns with blinking lights. Santa caps are omnipresent.
Beyond the sights and sounds, though, there’s a feeling that pulls folks back.
“There are not many places we go anymore ... where the whole community gathers and sings Christmas carols,” Jolly said.
“[TubaChristmas has become] a traditional place to go and get a good feeling for the season.”
The good vibes continued at the second show. That one, starring University of Akron Provost Mike Sherman as the amateur player, drew another 2,900, marking the first time in the event’s five-year run at E.J. that both shows sold out.
Well, “sold out” is not exactly correct, seeing as how admission is free. (They do pass the hat, with the money going toward the cost of operating the hall and to scholarships for low-brass students at UA.)
But when you can draw nearly 6,000 people on a Saturday afternoon in mid-December, you’re doing something right. A lot of things.
“I think people would come the first time just to see it, no matter what it sounded like,” Jolly said. “But to have the crowd that we have that keeps coming back — it sounds pretty good. And it’s very conducive to singing with.”
Thirty-two years of TubaChristmas and it’s going as strong as ever. Who’d have believed it? Not even Jolly.
“I just keep thinking that at some point this thing’s gotta run out of steam,” he said. “But it’s holding on pretty well.”
I would say so.
In spite of the guest soloists.
Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com.
