So, two things to post about today. First is my story about a vending machine with a conscience and the second is about my favorite baritone, Robert Merrill.
The vending machine. This week I went to a final dress rehearsal for one of our operas and I really wanted a fizzy drink. Ryan lent me 2 euros (that's for a 33 cl can, super expensive!) so that I could by an Orangina. Oranginas are delicious! Sadly, I put in the money and the machine said that it was out. I was very sad because I really wanted an Orangina before our performance! So, I decided on a coke. I hadn't drank a coke since 2009. But I remembered how amazing cokes in Europe were because they're made with real sugar instead of corn syrup. Well, apparently the machine felt bad for me because it gave me two cans of coke! And on top of that, it gave me back the two Euros!!!!!!!!!!! So Ryan got a coke and his money back. I was very excited. Sad part of the story: the coke did not taste that good, which I guess is also good because I don't want to drink another anymore.
Now, onto Robert Merrill. This has nothing to do really with current happenings in my life other than I just finished his autobiography about five minutes ago. It was a tough read because he was a singer and not a writer, so it was sort of ordered chronologically, but it was pretty scattered none the less. In the first few chapters it's all about his extremely difficult childhood and how his parents were always fighting and a lot about how he hated singing. Then he finally decides to start singing and begins enjoying it. The rest of the book is just the progression through his life but it bounces between him being very shy and humble and thinking that he's not worthy of certain roles or opportunities, to him thinking he is too good for things he is offered or simply thinking he is better than so many others.
It really had me debating how I felt about him as my favorite singer. It is truly amazing to able to read the words of someone you look up to so much and know how they felt and what they were thinking. Examples of his being too proud are that he won the MET auditions and then refused to learn any small roles. These days you would just be fired and forgotten about, but he eventually got his way and only ever performed leading baritone roles. But then when he was offered really big, important roles (such as Rigoletto, often regarded as the greatest baritone role) he turned it down saying he wasn't ready. But then when young hopefuls would try to sing for him, as he often did when he was young to try and be discovered, he comments about how he would tell them to just go become a doctor or lawyer because they would never have a career in music. All very strange.
But I think the thing that finally sold me on him was that for the whole book his mother had been portrayed as the villain and everyone was sort of on his side. And if the things he says were true, she was evil. The stories of her are too numerous to recount. But as I wondered how the book could possibly end, it was actually with his mother's death, and he talks about how it wasn't really a surprise because she'd been pushing herself to death for years and had been going in and out of comas for several months. But in the end he realized that she really was the reason for everything he had been able to do, even if she never seemed happy with what he was doing or wished she had had his life. It ended up being truly touching. In the end, I think it just took him a long time to grow up, but with time he did become one of the greatest singers of all time.
Glad you "enjoyed" it.
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