The Singers have a wonderful Gospel number that begins with the men singing, “I can tell the world, yes, about this.” I’ve begun to think of it as the tattle-tale song because whenever someone says or does something on the bus that could prove embarrassing, one of the men invariable pipes up with “I can tell the world….”
So…let’s tell the world. Let’s start with the important stuff: Curtis Lee has triumphed over the Rubics Cube. More than triumphed. He has totally defeated it. He is now one with the Cube. Watching him spin the faces from colored chaos to complete harmony is like watching performance art. The fact he can work such magic in about three minutes is all part of the performance. I may have to videotape it as part of the Singers diary.
Jared Bybee took a pair of sewing scissors to his hair in Gorizia. The result is…interesting. Some might even call it innovative — but many might not. Doesn’t matter. It reflects Jared’s total embrace of life. We should all be so comfortable in our own skin.
Stephanie Brown became a source of considerable attraction to one of the local policemen patrolling the dock where our bus was parked after the Koper concert. Stephanie swears innocence. After all, it’s her role to take roster of all the Singers so she’s always the last person on board. And it was a warm Mediterranean night so it made sense for her to flip her evening gown back and forth as she waited–seemingly deliberately–outside the bus. The poor constable was drawn like a moth to a flame…but this flame eventually climbed on board, informed the driver we were all there, and sped away into the night.
Caitlin Elmer likes bread, and Slovenia is a country with good bread. She’s not at “bread addict” stage yet, but there were a couple of days when entire loaves would mysteriously disappear. I’m just sayin’. She had a perfectly good excuse: These breads have no preservatives so they would go bad if they weren’t eaten right way. Can’t argue with logic. (And the bread really is delicious.)
And finally, I was fortunate enough to overhear a quiet conversation between Erica Lovell and a choir member on the bus at Koper that revealed an extraordinary depth of patience and compassion. The conversation itself was mundane but the circumstances made it remarkable, and I was lucky enough to learn once again about the great power of simply caring enough to listen.
We’re in Ljubljana tonight, the beautiful capital of Slovenia. The last few days have been a whirlwind of packing/unpacking, singing, driving, and lots of walking. Since I have remarkably good connection tonight, I thought I might let some photos do the talking for me. And forgive me in advance: I make my living as a writer, not a photographer.