More Jester Hairston
I am appalled by my failure to use the upcoming papal election as an excuse to make fun of the unfortunately-named Cardinal Sin of The Philippines. Colby Cosh beat me to it. Memo to self: I love you, but you're never going to blog with the big dogs if you keep overlooking opportunities like that.
My friend Tom reacted to my post on Jester Hairston with this memory (which I quote with permission):
[T]hinking I might come across something mind-stretching (or at least fun to hear) I stopped at the Fredösphere tonight and came across your blurb (blogurb?) about Mr. Hairston.
Were you in the Choral Union when he directed us? [Answer: no. -F] 1994 or thereabouts. We did a couple of spirituals with him directing - he was in his 90's by then, short and thin,and a little senile - Tom Sheets had to remind him of what he was trying to do, every so often - but still an embodiment of energy, even though his legs had slowed a bit since his quarterbacking days. He clearly knew what he wanted and how to get it. He brought in this amazing tenor to sing the solo in this one piece, and this guy whipped the initially staid Ann Arbor audience at Hill into a swinging, soul-lovin', rockin' group.
Umie the Umlaut says, "ask your doctor about the Fredösphere!"
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