Scanning through early Saturday morning television and eating his customary breakfast of organic brie, thirty seven grain toast and arugula, classical singer Josh Groban grew instantly panicked as he flipped to FOX News Network’s coverage of the Tea Party Nation convention.
Within moments, Oprah’s favorite singer was on the phone with the airport, chartering a plane to Nashville. All those white people in one place, he figured, must be a pre-show gathering for a Josh Groban concert — a concert that he had nearly forgotten about.
“My heart nearly stopped,” Groban said. “The idea of denying people the gift I have been so graciously given — how could they forgive me? How could I forgive myself?”
A three hour plane ride and a taxi fare later, Groban arrived at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel & Convention Center, hurrying through a throng of his fans that seemed angrier than his usual concert goers. Perhaps word of his late arrival had already spread through the crowd, he thought.
It wasn’t until right before he thought he was scheduled to go on stage, though, that Groban began to truly grow suspicious that something about the scene was fundamentally awry.
Unaccustomed to opening acts, the classically trained Grammy-winner was confused as to why there was a senior citizen-led ragtime band warming up the crowd; what all the white bed sheet head dresses in the audience were about; and, most perplexing, why former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin seemed more interested in writing on her hand than showing the usual enthusiasm that dignitaries displayed when granted audiences with the singer backstage.
“She asked me if I was that, ‘nice Jonas Brothers kid’ and when I said no, she kind of lost interest,” Groban recalled.
But, in a rush for time, he pushed the strange signs to the back of his mind, concentrating only on the beautiful concerto he was about to perform for what would be a captivated audience. Show time had arrived, and Groban took the stage.
Inexplicably without his customary backing orchestra, Groban quickly improvised, instructing the ragtime band’s 67-year old fiddler, Wallace Duncan, to provide the rising number that customarily introduces his opener. Appearing from behind the curtains, Groban breathed in deep, summoned the audience to its feet, and began a rousing Italian vocal that, for years, has given listeners worldwide the faintest hint of what the booming voice of God may sound like, if the monotheistic deity indeed embodies all the pure goodness that centuries of prayer have promised.
This time, though, instead of the gasps of glee puncturing the rapturous silence of the crowd, Groban heard jeers.
“Sing in English!” one man yelled out, while another taunted, “Go home, faggot!”
Trying to ignore the jeers, Groban pushed on through the end of the song, when he made an abrupt change in strategy: remembering a song a middle school bully used to sing, Groban broke out into a verse of “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” by Poison, moving the audience to tears — even Sarah Palin, who later raved about the performance on Facebook.
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