Now that I have posted 2 (TWO) blogs in the same week, regular readers of this space (all 3 of you) will be expecting a plague of frogs and locusts. If that occurs, remember that locusts are a good source of protein. Nom nom nom nom.
I am posting again to show what I did before my Christmas vacation: I got to be Einstein.
I had a music client 30 years ago who called me "Einstein" because He thought I was smart. (If you can fool the people......) Or maybe it was because he thought I made him sound like Lionel Ritchie.
impersonating people, things, accents, lamps, etc has been a specialty
of mine as long as I can remember. And I have often found myself in
trouble because of this specialty. I recall a certain Phys-Ed teacher in
high school (whom I dubbed "War Eagle" because of his macho posturing
and his uncanny resemblance to a wrestler of the same name). He also had
a very particular cadence to his speech pattern. Maybe we musicians are
just naturally good at picking up on these things. It stands to reason.
So one day I happened to do my War Eagle
impersonation in gym glass (I was about 15) while he was yammering on
about something or other while holding a volleyball under his arm. As I
turned to my fellow student and uttered (sotto voce, I may add) my
witty impersonation, War Eagle launched said volley ball at my head.
As my glasses smashed against my face and fell to the floor in pieces, I
was reminded of something Steve Martin would say a few years later,
"Comedy is not pretty."
Which brings me to last fall, when
I was asked to do an Einstein impersonation for the Hebrew University.
Naturally I agreed. My acting career has never quite panned out as I
expected, so I am open to any job that doesn't involve nudity. And I
think Robert DeNiro was busy that week.
Here is the English Version.
accent was a bit of a challenge- I listened to recordings of man
himself, who had a throaty voice and rather quaint lilt to his speech.
One has to watch doing these kinds of accents, because a quaint Viennese
lilt can turn into a spluttering, rabid Hitler very easily. At least
for me. And then, to add to the fun (and this is Canada) I had to do a
French version. For that, I became a method actor (not really...I just
felt like saying that) and reached back into my 40 years as as
Quebecker, used to hearing Europeans speaking French with their native
accents. I am not sure I got it quite right, but it's not bad. If I do
say so myself.
Here is the French Version.
there you have it. It must have been worth it because my wife saw part
of it on TV last night. Maybe I should have bought a better mustache.