CON TE PARTIRO (MR. BOCELLI).
Get off the chair, Daddy! Do you want to injure yourself!
If you were to rewind two minutes, then you would understand why I was standing on a chair, and I am confident that you would do exactly the same. This is what happened:
We were enjoying a lovely Friday night dinner, and it happened (through a convoluted trail of conversation) that we came to be listening to Andrea Bocelli's rendition of Con te partirò, his mid-90s pop opera ballad that still gives me goosebumps the size of a duckbump when the majestic chorus summons all the love packed into the world and squeezes it into a gorgeous trio of stanzas.
Now, I listen to a lot of music, and I have a deep appreciation for John Cage and the Jesus & Mary Chain and all sorts of dissonant musical ramblings, but when Mr. Bocelli pops on the playlist and belts out the most beautiful melody you have ever heard in your entire life, then there is only one thing to do. And that is to stand on a chair, at the head of table, and air-conduct the rest of your family and try to simultaneously sing along in Italian. What I have learned is that when you don't speak a language very well*, you can effectively disguise that fact by speaking (i.e. singing) extra loud. Soon, I was joined on the chair by my two little elves, one of whom informed me that I was not setting a good example for them.
Phooey! I said. How could anybody in their right mind not stand on a chair and sing along to the Greatest Song Ever when it comes on?
And then my Bride Elf gave up fighting and joined in. Glorious and epic. Now, as Mr. Bocelli and Elmo said in their Sesame Street re-imagining of it, it is Time to Say Goodnight. And there were no injuries.
Goodbye.
*at all
Andrea Bocelli
Con te partirò
Bocelli
1995
We were enjoying a lovely Friday night dinner, and it happened (through a convoluted trail of conversation) that we came to be listening to Andrea Bocelli's rendition of Con te partirò, his mid-90s pop opera ballad that still gives me goosebumps the size of a duckbump when the majestic chorus summons all the love packed into the world and squeezes it into a gorgeous trio of stanzas.
Now, I listen to a lot of music, and I have a deep appreciation for John Cage and the Jesus & Mary Chain and all sorts of dissonant musical ramblings, but when Mr. Bocelli pops on the playlist and belts out the most beautiful melody you have ever heard in your entire life, then there is only one thing to do. And that is to stand on a chair, at the head of table, and air-conduct the rest of your family and try to simultaneously sing along in Italian. What I have learned is that when you don't speak a language very well*, you can effectively disguise that fact by speaking (i.e. singing) extra loud. Soon, I was joined on the chair by my two little elves, one of whom informed me that I was not setting a good example for them.
Phooey! I said. How could anybody in their right mind not stand on a chair and sing along to the Greatest Song Ever when it comes on?
And then my Bride Elf gave up fighting and joined in. Glorious and epic. Now, as Mr. Bocelli and Elmo said in their Sesame Street re-imagining of it, it is Time to Say Goodnight. And there were no injuries.
Goodbye.
*at all
Andrea Bocelli
Con te partirò
Bocelli
1995