Jonah – I came into work this morning, ran through my email, signed payroll, ran out to rake a couple of employees over the coals, went back to the office, pulled up NRO, and clicked on the Corner. That’s when I ran across your post about Paul Potts. The video came up and there’s this dumpy guy with bad teeth. Then he started to sing. Now, I’m not an overly emotional person, but halfway through I realized I was crying. Haven’t done anything like that in many, many years, and I wondered, as I dried my eyes, how in the world his singing could have caused such a strong reaction in me. The video has been on a loop in my head ever since, and I think I’m ready to make a guess.
His expression before he begins to sing is that of a man resigned to disappointment. Even when he smiles, his eyes convey a profound sadness. He has been a nobody all his life. He, and perhaps only he, knows he has greatness inside of him, but he is obviously a humble man, massively insecure, afraid of rejection, unsure of himself outside the cocoon of anonymity. But you get the feeling he also knows that this may be the one chance he gets to escape the cocoon, and as he begins to sing, you can see him fighting down his fear. I think that is the wellspring of the emotion that pervades his performance. He is fighting against a life of obscurity. By the song’s end, what was an average Joe has stepped up, beaten back his fear, and broken through. In those few seconds, he put the void behind him, and his life will probably be changed forever because he called up the courage at that moment to show what he was really made of. We saw greatness, long denied, finally being born.
It was one of the most heroic things I’ve seen in a long time. My deepest thanks to you for posting it. Truly inspirational. –
Normally the 6-year old girl would have won against all the others. However, Paul Potts was something special. He had a hard life and she is just starting out.
Mr. Tanner
Harry Chapin
Mr. Tanner was a cleaner from a town in the Midwest. Of all the cleaning shops around, he’d made his the best. He also was a baritone who sang while hanging clothes. He practiced scales while pressing tails and sang at local shows.
His friends and neighbors praised the voice that poured out from his throat. They said that he should use his gift instead of cleaning coats.
But music was his life, it was not his livelihood and it made him feel so happy, and it made him feel so good. He sang from his heart, and he sang from his soul. He did not know how well he sang, it just made him whole.
His friends kept working on him to try music out full time, a big debut and rave reviews, a great career to climb.
Finally, they got to him; he would take the fling. A concert agent in New York agreed to have him sing. There were plane tickets, phone calls, money spent to rent the hall. It took most of his savings, but he’d gladly use them all.
The evening came, he took the stage, his face set in a smile. In the half filled hall the critics sat watching on the aisle. The concert was a blur to him, spatters of applause. He did not know how well he’d sung, he only heard the flaws. But, the critics were concise, it only took four lines, and no one could accuse them of being over-kind.
“Mr. Martin Tanner, baritone, of Dayton, Ohio, made his town hall debut last night. He came well prepared, but unfortunately, his presentation was not up to contemporary professional standards. His voice lacks the range of tonal color necessary to make it consistently interesting. Full time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.”
He came home to Dayton and was questioned by his friends. But, he smiled and just said nothing and he never sang again — excepting very late at night when the shop was dark and close, he sang softly to himself as he sorted through the clothes.
So beautifully expressed.