Talent Show 2010

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This gathering was billed as The Last Hurrah because we thought it might be our final celebration before Marion/Mom and Gail move out of 8447. Although this proved premature, we pulled out the stops and came up with our first Talent Show.


Thanks to the tech-savvy planning of Jude and James, we enjoyed the the first "intercoastal" Jabo get-together (hereabouts the Great Lakes have been called America's Third Coast) via computer. This went on all day, an hours-long video phone call.  




To start us out, Scott sang the much-loved German folk song "Die Lorelei" accompanied by Monica on guitar. If you'd like to follow along or just want to check on Scott's pronunciation, the lyrics and translation are below...


Max told several comical stories and Peter created a diagonal Jenga masterpiece


Chris recalled an experience of butterflies over 8447, and read a story she'd written some years ago.


Jude MC'd and sang a number of songs, including "The Water is Wide" and The Black Velvet Band"


Bob read one of his entries from his blog "My Two Innings"


  Day and Bill/Lou played a duet on Indian tamboura and Scottish smallpipes, and fielded many questions about the instruments, Here the tune "Going Home" is set to a mawkish video paean to 8447.


by Heinrich Heine

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.

Die Luft ist kühl, und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt
In Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr goldenes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar.

Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewaltige Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
Die Lorelei getan.


English translation:

I know not if there is a reason
Why I am so sad at heart.
A legend of bygone ages
Haunts me and will not depart.

The air is cool under nightfall.
The calm Rhine courses its way.
The peak of the mountain is sparkling
With evening's final ray.

The fairest of maidens is sitting
Unwittingly wondrous up there,
Her golden jewels are shining,
She's combing her golden hair.

The comb she holds is golden,
She sings a song as well
Whose melody binds an enthralling
And overpowering spell.

In his little boat, the boatman
Is seized with a savage woe,
He'd rather look up at the mountain
Than down at the rocks below.

I think that the waves will devour
The boatman and boat as one;
And this by her song's sheer power
Fair Lorelei has done.

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