So I'm in bed, Sunday morning having a lie-in, like you do.
About 7:30ish, some voice comes on a loudspeaker somewhere. Not close enough for the voice to be anything but garbled, but not loud enough to ignore, either.
Sounds like a sports announcer.
It's not 8:00 AM on a Sunday, yet.
Great. Is there a marathon on my street? I hear crowd sounds. *much grumbling*
It carries on, the puppies settle back down and I sort of doze a bit more, all to the three step tonal range of an animated announcer. Ok. Whatever.
Then a few minutes before 8:00, I hear the voice of what is obviously a child singing our national anthem in that new, obnoxious way one hears so often. Call me curmudgeonly, but the Star Spangled Banner is something on which I'm very much a purist. I think noodlesome Whitney Houston/Celine Dion/Mariah Carey antics are simply uncalled-for when it comes to down to it. In fact, I think properly sung, it's the text and the grandiosity of its musical structure which is so deeply stirring. However good a singer may be, I think the SSB is not the moment for someone to showboat and take license with the meter of the melody, festooning its form with great syrupy swags of unwritten notes which the whole song has to stop to accommodate. You know the reason so many people add all those extra notes? It's because it's SUCH a hard song to sing with its high notes and sustained tones. Sing it as written and well and then I'll be impressed, baby, or don't sing it all.
So, as the song was ending was when the jet fighter flew over. Nice. So much for more sleep. *harumph*