I heard on the Today Show that mobile phone salesman cum opera singer Paul Potts was the big winner of the show Britain's Got Talent. I saw a clip of the program and, try as I might, couldn't hold back the tears. Such a lovely voice. Such a surprising result. I'm no Anglophile, but I have the utmost apreciation for the decision to award this bashful belter.
In our fast-paced, in-your-face, youth-oriented, it-doesn't-thrill-me-unless-it-sets-off-the-burgler-alarm pop culture, I hold out no hope that an opera singer would ever win a televised talent search in the US. Especially a pudgy, middle aged opera singer. But the Brits loved this guy. They gave him a standing ovation. Even Simon had to smile.
Don't get me wrong - I love popular music. Spent some time with a cover band. But it was my early classical training that laid the foundation for any vocal skill I may profess today. The appeal of opera to me is the sheer difficulty of the art form. Sort of the same reason I am glued to the television during the olympics. Don't know a darn thing about snowboarding, but love to watch people do really difficult things really well.
You go, Paul Potts. Way to go!