Colm to me…
After I graduated from high school, I couldn’t wait to kick the small town dust off my feet. (Driggs, Idaho: population 3,000ish; cow population: 30,000ish; and potato population: 3,000,000ish.) The quiet dark nights of the country nearly drove me mad. The dirt roads frustrated me with their slow speeds and, well, dust. And I hated that I couldn’t even go to the grocery store without seeing someone I knew. I longed for anonimity.
So, I headed for the bright lights of Utah. Salt Lake Cityish: population: 1.5 millionish people.
I craved people. I craved city lights. I craved traffic. I craved paved street-lamped streets and real honest to goodness sidewalks. I drove downtown, just for the culture shock. Black people, homeless people, punks, yuppies, hippies, vets. All of it fascinated me.
I did strange things: like get stuck in traffic on purpose in 100 degree weather and no A/C just to be around people.
My sister lived in Utah. I often visited her and one week a met a guy at her church. He was interested in me and tried elaborate gimmicks to “woo” me over. Secret coded messages. Treasure hunts complete with map at the park. Giving me turtle wax with a promise to wax my car. (Romantic, no?)
He promised to take me to see Les Miserables. And he gave me a copied cassette of the sound track.
I was sorta familiar with it, but not really. So, when I was stuck in traffic, I would put on that sound track.
I found it mesmermising and amazing.
And, so, I fell deeply and hopelessly in love.
But, not with the guy. I found him uninteresting and frankly a little weird.
I fell in love with Les Miserables.
I could not get enough of the music. I held out for tickets. But, alas, the guy (I can’t remember his name even. Brian? Mike?) flaked. No tickets. They were sold out. Or so he claimed.
That was the end of him.
But just the beginning of my love for Les Mis.
So, I’m going to share with you, my true love of Colm Wilkinson’s voice.
Is it any wonder I ended up marrying a tenor who also has a fabulous voice?
I love Les Miserables also. My father took us to it when I was about 10 and I fell in love too. I used to want to grow up to be Eponine. (Why such a tragic figure? Probably beacuse I was getting into those teen years.)
Love Les Mis! I’ve seen it in SLC and London. And I’d give a lot to be back in my small town Idaho.
Who doesn’t love Les Mis when they see it or even hear it? I remeber watching this is French Class in Jr. High. Nothing compared to a live performance! Great in SLC a few years back, but surprisingly my “new” favorite version is the Northridge High production ltwo years ago. It was so amazing I saw it twice in one day. Who new kids could be so good? P.S. I wouldn’t mind bringing Colm home to sing me a lullabye so I could go to sleep at a normal hr.