Stacy Horn

Reasons Why Yesterday Didn’t Suck

1. My visit to the dentist didn’t involve a novocaine shot.
2. A guy on the street told me I was cute in a particularly sweet way.
3. I’ve actually lost too much weight, and I don’t want to exercise or swim less so that means EAT MORE. I had grilled cheese and french fries for lunch.
4. Went out to dinner after Teresa Carpenter’s reading last night, saw an old-friend, great dinner conversation with his wife. Oh, and another nice compliment at dinner about how I looked.
5. Came home to a dinner invitation from a friend who is a GREAT cook.
6. Positive response from Howard who looked at the re-worked beginning of my book.

The Second Cemetery of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue on 11th Street, which I pass by almost every day. I took this Tuesday night on my way back from choir practice.

Before submitting a video for Eric Whitacre’s Virtual Choir 3 I wanted to see what I looked like when singing. The piece we’d be singing hadn’t been announced yet, so in this video I’m singing a snippet from Randall Thompson’s Peaceable Kingdom. (My choir was working on that at the time, and I love this chorus at the end.)

I know I’m repeating jokes I made early. I’ve only got the two.

Apparently you had to register for tickets to watch the So You Think You Can Dance auditions, which I didn’t do until the night before, and now they are over, according to Nigel Lythgoe’s tweets (could he have a more British name??). Damnit, damnit, damnit.

Here are the sections of the Verdi Requiem that we worked on last night. The Libera me section is going to kill me. It’s going to be like those murder mysteries, my body will be found and next to my outstretched hand will be the name of my murderer, which I will have written in my own blood, “Verdi!”

Actually, it’s stunning and fun, although the fugue in the Libera me is a challenge, it’s true. But so deliciously dramatic.

I took this walking home last night. At the end of this corner is where I will stop for pizza before turning right and heading home.

Weirdly, the other day I was talking about how icky Steven Tyler can get on American Idol and today I’m defending him. Yesterday every single news organization was talking about how badly Steven Tyler sang the National Anthem … somewhere. At a football game, I don’t know which.

So I listen. It’s fine. He goes slightly flat here and there, but not horribly so. He got both the tricky high notes. It’s hard not to go flat when you’re singing a cappella, and besides, he was probably tired, and, as I said yesterday, he’s no spring chicken. That said, it was fine, more than fine really. He managed to insert a note of sweetness and respect into his signature screech, which was quite a feat. Bottom line he did nothing to warrant yesterday’s coverage.

How did the whole thing get started? Did one person say he sang badly and they all just jumped on the bandwagon, not stopping to evaluate whether or not what they were saying was true? It was bizarre hearing commentator after commentator talk with such critical authority about it. Especially when one said they could do a better job. Right. His style may not be your cup of tea, but the man is a gifted singer, even on a so-so day, and I’d like to hear any commentator sing the National Anthem (hardest song ever) in that venue (you couldn’t pay me, okay you could, but it would have to be a lot).

Listen for yourself.

Buddy. I have no idea what this expression meant. He’s calculating in his head the hours until I feed him next?

Nigel Lythgoe has been tweeting that the New York auditions are open to audience members so I’m going tomorrow. I hope it’s okay to take pictures. Because if I can’t post pictures and blog about it, what’s the point of doing something?? I’m excited though.

Finney in a basket.