Essays in Idleness

The highlight in Trump’s inauguration yesterday was Carrie Underwood’s a cappella performance of “America the Beautiful.” It was of course not meant to be a cappella, but the canned orchestral backing cut out, leaving an awkward silence. This ended when Carrie advised the musical captain, “I’ll just sing it,” then carried it off in her full-lyric (almost mezzo-) soprano.

I formed a crush on this Oklahoma country singer when I first learnt about her. This was when she married an Ottawa hockey player, fifteen years ago. She had come out of the choir of a Free Will Baptist Church. (Like my Cape Breton mama, who became a Free Will Baptist at the age of five, when the congregation she belonged to collectively defected from quasi-Presbyterianism, to save their Homeville family church from the United Church lawyers, at the merger of 1925. My grandma, Annie, said she preferred these Baptists because, “They allow dancing, and the use of the human brain.”)

Carrie Underwood has generated gospel hits, including the incomparable “Jesus, Take the Wheel” (well, crossover), and the whole album, My Saviour.

She is not political, or wasn’t, even slightly, like many of Trump’s supporters now come out of the wainscotting. And they still hate politics, as I do. But when they are called, they will vote for their freedom; and will play their part, on cue. And when the technology fails, they will sing, a cappella. God bless all the Trumplings.