I feel complete frustration when I see celebrities, spontaneously popping in on someone or in some venue, and everyone in the audience instantly pulls out their phone to record the whole thing. I have always felt that if I ever happened to come in contact with some celebrity, I would just take in the whole moment. I wouldn't make them feel awkward, but I would let them continue on with their life of normalcy while I quietly observed them.
Yeah, right...
Jung-Ho Pak is the conductor of conductors for kids. I doubt there is any other symphonic conductor who is known for being able to work with high school musicians like he can. In a week, he rehearses these teenagers for a concert that takes most other orchestras months to prepare. He expects a lot, and the kids are happy to oblige, because they respect him so much.
When Mark attended Interlochen, he refused to get a picture with Jung-Ho Pak. Ever. It wasn't until John dragged Mark over to Jung-Ho over lunch that we got a picture, but I'm not sure Mark said even one word to him. Mark was in complete awe of the man, and actually speaking to his hero would have put him over the top. Shoot, Mark will forever remember one of the times that Jung-Ho was walking through the orchestra, and his hand momentarily rested on Mark's shoulder. Mark referred to that incident as "the hand of God".
While I don't think Johannah feared Jung-Ho as much, I was grateful that she finally had an experience with him. Her life has been changed since working with him, and she hasn't met another conductor who can compare.
So, Glo and I headed to camp today so that we could get our badges, her camper badge and my employee badge. Of the million and one forms I had completed online, I had forgotten to fill out my health form, so I was directed to a side table in the employee registration room. While filling out my insurance information, I happened to turn around for a brief moment.
And there he was. Jung-Ho Pak.
Yep, remember what I said about those star struck fans? Yeah, it all went out the door, and I will never judge those crazed people again. Here's how the conversation went (as best as I can remember while sweat poured down my face, and my heart was racing):
"OH MY GOSH, Jung-H...."
In my mind, I was thinking, "Can I call him Jung-Ho like all the kids do? Is it Mr. Pak? Or Maestro Pak? Or does he have one of those Asian names where Jung is actually his last name, and Pak is his first name? Should I call him Mr. Jung-Ho?"
Sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. My kids had you, and I feel like we are friends."
Had you? What? For dinner?
He gave some zen-like comment about us being friends through music, or something. I just cut him off and continued.
"My son played horn with you. He was 6'5" tall. It was a couple of years ago."
Played horn WITH you? Like he and Mark sat down to a jam session of conducting and horn?
"My daughter played viola. She wore a giant headband everyday to rehearsal."
Yeah, Johannah doesn't play anymore. She PLAYED. And I'm sure he's busy noticing the head wear of the 100+ musicians in the World Youth Symphony Orchestra. Of course, in my mind I was thinking, "Remember you taught her how to lead the section from the back by moving her to the front, and her playing has never been the same?"
Finally, He opened his mouth. What did He say?
Jung-Ho: "Yes, I remember your son. He was very tall. And very thin. And his head was..."
Me: "WHITE."
Jung-Ho: "Uhhh..."
Me: "He kind of glowed on stage."
Oh my gosh, let the earth just open up and swallow me whole right now. Glowed on stage? Like an alien?
Jung-Ho: "His hair was very clean cut."
Yes, that was him.
We were interrupted for a moment.
Knowing I only had a moment to redeem myself, I told him that our family was so grateful for all he had done for us. In fact, my daughter was at a music festival this week, and just last night she told me that while it was a good festival, there was no one like Jung-Ho.
And yes, Mr. Maestro Jung-Ho Pak, that's what we call you around our house.
Because you need no other name, and because we think of you as our friend.
And I will pull out my phone, set up the camera so I can take this photo over my shoulder while I face away from you and take a total stalker picture of you, because I am no better than any of the crazed fans of celebrities whom I have judged before:
(For the record, he's watching the Blood Borne Pathogen video. Don't ask me how I know that.)
Yeah, right...
Jung-Ho Pak is the conductor of conductors for kids. I doubt there is any other symphonic conductor who is known for being able to work with high school musicians like he can. In a week, he rehearses these teenagers for a concert that takes most other orchestras months to prepare. He expects a lot, and the kids are happy to oblige, because they respect him so much.
When Mark attended Interlochen, he refused to get a picture with Jung-Ho Pak. Ever. It wasn't until John dragged Mark over to Jung-Ho over lunch that we got a picture, but I'm not sure Mark said even one word to him. Mark was in complete awe of the man, and actually speaking to his hero would have put him over the top. Shoot, Mark will forever remember one of the times that Jung-Ho was walking through the orchestra, and his hand momentarily rested on Mark's shoulder. Mark referred to that incident as "the hand of God".While I don't think Johannah feared Jung-Ho as much, I was grateful that she finally had an experience with him. Her life has been changed since working with him, and she hasn't met another conductor who can compare.
So, Glo and I headed to camp today so that we could get our badges, her camper badge and my employee badge. Of the million and one forms I had completed online, I had forgotten to fill out my health form, so I was directed to a side table in the employee registration room. While filling out my insurance information, I happened to turn around for a brief moment.
And there he was. Jung-Ho Pak.
Yep, remember what I said about those star struck fans? Yeah, it all went out the door, and I will never judge those crazed people again. Here's how the conversation went (as best as I can remember while sweat poured down my face, and my heart was racing):
"OH MY GOSH, Jung-H...."
In my mind, I was thinking, "Can I call him Jung-Ho like all the kids do? Is it Mr. Pak? Or Maestro Pak? Or does he have one of those Asian names where Jung is actually his last name, and Pak is his first name? Should I call him Mr. Jung-Ho?"
Sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. My kids had you, and I feel like we are friends."
Had you? What? For dinner?
He gave some zen-like comment about us being friends through music, or something. I just cut him off and continued.
"My son played horn with you. He was 6'5" tall. It was a couple of years ago."
Played horn WITH you? Like he and Mark sat down to a jam session of conducting and horn?
"My daughter played viola. She wore a giant headband everyday to rehearsal."
Yeah, Johannah doesn't play anymore. She PLAYED. And I'm sure he's busy noticing the head wear of the 100+ musicians in the World Youth Symphony Orchestra. Of course, in my mind I was thinking, "Remember you taught her how to lead the section from the back by moving her to the front, and her playing has never been the same?"
Finally, He opened his mouth. What did He say?
Jung-Ho: "Yes, I remember your son. He was very tall. And very thin. And his head was..."
Me: "WHITE."
Jung-Ho: "Uhhh..."
Me: "He kind of glowed on stage."
Oh my gosh, let the earth just open up and swallow me whole right now. Glowed on stage? Like an alien?
Jung-Ho: "His hair was very clean cut."
Yes, that was him.
We were interrupted for a moment.
Knowing I only had a moment to redeem myself, I told him that our family was so grateful for all he had done for us. In fact, my daughter was at a music festival this week, and just last night she told me that while it was a good festival, there was no one like Jung-Ho.
And yes, Mr. Maestro Jung-Ho Pak, that's what we call you around our house.
Because you need no other name, and because we think of you as our friend.
And I will pull out my phone, set up the camera so I can take this photo over my shoulder while I face away from you and take a total stalker picture of you, because I am no better than any of the crazed fans of celebrities whom I have judged before:
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