On days like today — where I’d rather spend the day compulsively refreshing The Huffington Post or scouring the Internet for instructions on how to embed a video in Wordpress — I need a kick in the pants to get myself motivated to get some work done.

So, for your viewing pleasure and mine, let’s watch A Cappella Gridiron, from Current TV, about my tournament. (It is not embedded, because I never did figure out how to do it, so you’ll just have to click the link. Tutorials welcome!)

Pretty cool, right? I wonder if non-vocalist types get goosebumps, too.

My tournament was the lead story in a recent NPR piece, an interview with senior GQ editor Mickey Rapkin, whose book, Pitch Perfect: The Quest for Collegiate A Cappella Glory, recently hit national bookstores. (Sorry, Rob bought the only copy at the Borders on State and Lake, so you’ll have to get yours elsewhere. Or you can just have my copy.)

You can listen to the piece here.

Pretty wild, huh? I find it hilarious that I am now learning things about my own business on the radio. (ICCA is pronounced “Ick-uh”? Seriously?) I mean, it makes me giggle to hear the host of an NPR show talking about the tournament’s organizers making this huge decision to amend the judging system that ultimately changed the landscape of competitive a cappella, when in reality what transpired was a 15-second conversation on the plane home from New York City:

Amanda: “Shit, did the Juilliard judge really screw them over then?”
Rob: “Yeah, we’d better start having five judges and throwing out the top and bottom scores.”
Amanda: “AAaaauauuuuuugh. Seriously? That’s so much work!”

Of course, it wouldn’t be my tournament without the aca-drama, so it makes me feel somewhat better that even NPR had to explain itself in the aftermath. Listen here for their follow-up piece that patiently insists that all the a cappella tunes they played really WERE done entirely without instruments. Seriously, Dad, they really AREN’T sneaking drum sets into the studios or playing tiny trombones from in the wings!

Oh yeah, my show!

It went great. Of course there are always a million last-minute issues and acamergencies, but nothing too bad. The best part is that there were no sore losers this year … the third-place group, for example, wasn’t pouting that they didn’t get first. They were shocked and thrilled, as was the second-place group. The first-place group, well, everyone knew they were going to win, but they were still ecstatic. This stands in stark contrast to last year, when an all-male group with huge egos decided to trash their dressing room after they didn’t place.

Then everyone went to PJ Clarke’s after, and for the first time, the after-party was a huge success, due in large part to the aforementioned glee of all participants. The groups even sang together, as I so love them to do, and I only had to do a little finagling to make the moment happen. I kept trying to get people to start “Lean On Me,” which was the big song to do post-concert back in my day. But, alas, no takers. Rob just shrugged and said “I guess we’re old.”

It was at this point that a girl from the winning group came up us and said she couldn’t get over how familiar Rob looked. It turns out they are from the same town, though because are 10 years apart and certainly weren’t in high school together, that didn’t answer the question of how she might know him.

So I decide to start throwing out some names of people we know, trying to make the connection. Of course the first name I try is Rob’s best friend Barry, who apparently really is known by everysingleperson from the North Shore, because sure enough, her eyes light up. Turns out she recognizes Rob and Barry from when their band used to play at her piano recitals when she was a little girl, as all three of them took lessons from the same teacher.

The kicker is that she kept repeating that part about “when she was a little girl.” And yeah, if she’s 18 now, and we’re 27, then back in 1996, when Loose Change was in its heyday, Rob was 15, and that would have made her … SIX.

The only thing that made me feel older than that is my recognition that the students’ pant legs were noticeably tighter than mine, particularly in the ankle region. The girls in the winning group rocked the belts that I so wanted to wear back in fourth grade. I was too young and uncool to wear them then, and I’m too old and uncool to wear them now.

Here’s a video of that group, the University of Southern California SoCal VoCals. Allegedly they are all music theater majors, which I’m sure will shock you.

Click here to view the embedded video.

And because I have finally gotten over myself (and my fear of becoming a part of the aca-nerdery), and because it is high time that you all see exactly what it is I do for a living, I give you some of my all-time favorite moments in college a cappella. At least, the ones I could find on “the internets,” as we old fogies say.

This is Brigham Young University Vocal Point, who won the tournament a few years ago, performing “Thriller.” I’m a sucker for that one zombie move … you know the one!

Click here to view the embedded video.

Here’s University of Oregon Divisi, who didn’t win the tournament a few years ago. Don’t want to talk about it. This is “Yeah!” by Usher. Watch it until the end, you’ll be glad you did.

Click here to view the embedded video.

And BYU Noteworthy, another tournament winner, singing “How Great Thou Art.” About once a week, I get this stuck in my head and get a case of semi-permanent goosebumps. (Then I go and sing it in the shower and ruin it for myself.) They’re all crying by the end, and so am I.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Last but not least, yours truly and my husband-to-be, in the group that started it all for us. Keep in mind that this is basically what we majored in. Which actually kind of works out for me, considering my career today. Still, though.

Click here to view the embedded video.

See if you can spot:
- Kyle’s snake T-shirt
- John Bang dressed as a “bad-ass Asian,” complete with gold chain
- me wearing a tube top for the first and only time
- Rob’s sideburns
- Rob doing a cartwheel
- Rob’s white athletic socks with black shoes
- the moment when Kris decides that he needs to give Kyle a horse tranquilizer
- the quad, Lincoln Hall, the alma mater, Murphy’s Pub, the six pack dorms, and other favorite U of I spots

I have to say, I really do love my job.

It’s that time of year again — the end of the tournament season — and as usual, I am scrambling to throw together an event at Lincoln Center. Every year I think this is absolutely ridiculous and that next year I won’t leave everything until the last minute. And each and every year, I manage to leave things until even later than the previous year.

I think I just like to feel the burn. I can’t get anything accomplished unless it’s an emergency. Which is why I am writing at 11 pm instead of getting together the twelve billion things I need to get together before I leave for New York (via Chicago – have to drop off Molly!) tomorrow before the crack of dawn.

By this time of year, I have had to respond to many a dissatisfied customer. You know: Dear Somebody’s Mom, I’m sorry your son’s group didn’t win, appalling as it was for you, and even though everyone in the audience around you thought your son’s group was robbed, but I do stand by our judges’ decision, because, you know, they’re musicians. Not to mention, you know, UNBIASED.

Reminiscent of last year’s Easter fiasco is this year’s scheduling conflict between our finals in New York and the first night of Passover. Sedergate 2008, as it is now known in my brain, because that’s how my brain works, goes a little something like this:

Can you tell me why you scheduled this New York event for the first night of Passover??? This is exclusionary and insensitive, and causes a conflict for participants, families, and spectators!!! We come to your show every year and can’t believe you would hold your event on a sacred holiday. Optional ending: I would strongly recommend that you consider rescheduling this event so that everyone can attend.

Now, as a disclaimer here, I understand this person’s fury, just as I understood that last year’s scheduling of a semi-final event on Holy Saturday was worrisome to many a Christian. But what is absolutely exhausting and enormously frustrating is having to explain to people why our event is on Passover. The response goes something like this:

Dear disgruntled lady,

Do you think I WANTED to schedule our concert over Passover? I’m not a complete idiot. Why would I intentionally seek to invoke the fury of a group to which at least a good half of our performers and patrons belong? In New York City, no less?

Or did you assume that I simply overlooked Passover, forgot about it in my willy-nilly scheduling of this, the biggest, most important concert of the entire year, the pinnacle of the entire season, the raison d’etre for, I don’t know, owning and operating this whole business?

That’s right — I just flipped the calendar, picked a date at random, and called Lincoln Center to say, “Yo, b*tches, sign me up for this date. I don’t care if Itzhak Perlman is giving a concert that night, tell him he’d better reschedule now, because A CAPPELLA is comin’ to town!”

You are KILLING ME HERE!

In harmony,
Amanda

P.S. The Mormon kids from Brigham Young won their region but couldn’t make it to finals because of religious conflicts for, like, three years in a row, and I didn’t hear THEM complaining!!

Then I delete that and begrudgingly explain:

Dear Sir,

Thank you for taking the time to write in with your concerns. I assure you that I share your frustration with the scheduling of this year’s finals.

Unfortunately, we had no choice but to book our concert on this date. Because Alice Tully (our usual venue) is under construction this year, all the regular events for Alice Tully AND Avery Fisher were clamoring for dates in Fisher. And, as you can imagine, we are at the bottom end of the totem pole, because we are just a one-night event as opposed to a regular event at Avery Fisher whose production requires additional dates for rehearsals, extensive staffing and equipment rental, and so on. All of these things are financial considerations for Lincoln Center, and they come into play when they are deciding who they will book and on what priority.

Then there is the issue of timing. The date must be long enough after the last semifinal so groups have enough time to prepare and we have enough time to sell tickets, but early enough that we don’t have final exam conflicts for the college groups.

Finals also must be a Saturday night, as we struggle with the ticket sales on a Friday night or Sunday matinee, which is particularly troublesome this year because Avery Fisher is about twice as expensive as Alice Tully. That leaves us needing one of two dates — the last or second to last Saturday in April.

The second to last Saturday is Passover. And, of course, the last Saturday went to the NY Philharmonic.

It is difficult to begin to explain how much effort, finagling, pleading and so forth went in to securing that date. In fact, we were lucky to get that date, even though it is Passover, or a date at all!

And mind you, this all went on in the fall of 2006. These halls are that competitive to book.

I would like to point out that having a concert on this date is not entirely extraordinary — all the other large-scale venues in New York City are open and operating on the first night of Passover. We did take this into consideration when deciding whether or not it would be appropriate to schedule our event on this night. Unfortunately, with the first night of Passover falling on a Saturday night during the start of the prime concert season, the show must go on.

I am sorry that this date has caused a conflict for you. I hope you can see from the length of this email my personal and professional frustration with this situation, and that we did everything possible, within reason, to avoid this conflict. I hope you will join us for this event next spring and that you will continue to support a cappella.

Kind regards,
Amanda

And it pains me to write it that nicely. It pains me.

Here’s another new one this year – a request that has come in several times, if you can believe it:

We are unable to attend the upcoming finals at Lincoln Center. Will there be a webcast or other broadcast of this event? There are many friends and families that would like to tune in to the performance.

I’m biting the insides of my cheeks the whole time I write in response (some edited version of) this:

Dear Some Parent Who Is Not Using His Noggin,

Unfortunately, we will not be broadcasting our event. Avery Fisher is a union venue, and consequently the fees involved to videotape even for archival purposes are exorbitant — as in, upwards of $15,000. (I know, I thought they were kidding at first, too!)

Add on to that the need for a lot of well-connected people to be willing and able to spend the time and money to film our event, license it, produce it, pitch it to a network, and broadcast it … well, it’s nearly impossible.

In other words, are you f-ing kidding me?!?!?

I too am looking forward to the day that a cappella gets the media attention it deserves. It will happen some day, maybe sooner than we think, but unfortunately, this is not our year. Thank you for your suggestion, and for your continued support of a cappella and our programs.

Love and kisses,
Amanda

Honestly, just when I thought that it was college students who have the smallest capacity to reason, here come their parents. No reasoning skills whatsoever.

Somebody has got to teach me how to talk to the press.

While wasting time this morning (that would be after accidentally sleeping in until 10:30), I decided to Google my name. Go ahead and do it yourself now. I’ll wait.

Isn’t pretty, is it? Something must be done about my raging case of verbal diarrhea.

As a Master of Science in Print Journalism (yes I am a scientist, I am laughing too), I know that I am a reporter’s dream come true. You barely have to nudge me before I start in with all the gossip and snarky commentary. If you listen closely, you can almost hear my id screaming, “LET ‘ER RIP!!!!”

And the more a cappella grows in popularity, the more the media is calling, from tiny school newspapers to NBC Sports (yes, a cappella is now apparently a sport. I am a scientist and an athlete!). A book about college a cappella is coming out this summer, and I’m almost afraid to see what I have to say.

Sorry, you really are going to have to look it up yourself, because I’m not linking to any of this. Somewhere between babbling about myself to the press and giving college students around the world my personal cell phone number and home address, I have established a teensy modicum of privacy from my professional life on this here weblog. I’m not giving it up that easily.

I will be happy this summer to acquire a new, more common surname. I may even go whole hog and become Amanda Smith. Or Amanda Johnson.

Because with the adoption of Rob’s last name, the entire aca-mmunity will know that we are a successful product of an aca-romance. I’m pretty sure they’ll feel personally slighted that he didn’t propose on stage at Lincoln Center.

And I guess that answers your question as to whether or not our own college a cappella group will be singing in our wedding ceremony. I love them and all, but our lives are already too full of aca. That, and the airfare to Hawaii was just too expensive.

I’m rambling again. Verbal diarrhea! I told you!