MIDWAY — When he's not sporting standard lederhosen garb, pumping an accordion and yodelalyhooing like he belongs in the Swiss Alps or on a movie set next to Julie Andrews, Kerry Christensen often has a difficult time convincing curious folk what he does for a living.
A common response: "OK, what's your real job?"
For some reason, people act incredulous, or laugh, when he reveals that he's a "Master Yodeler."
"It's better than digging ditches," he muses. "You have to do something for a living, so you might as well yodel."
Job benefits: being paid to attend Oktoberfests, wearing a brooch adorned with a goat's beard and participating in (his words) "controlled yelling." Count organizers of Midway's Swiss Days among those delighted the Grace, Idaho, native didn't choose to be a potato farmer or businessman.
For 13 years, Christensen has been as big a part of the annual Switzerland celebration as bratwurst, cowbell ringers and Swiss
Navajo Tacos. His unique act is so popular in Heber Valley — within yodeling distance of his Austrian-styled cottage in Provo Canyon — he's booked for six performances today and Saturday.
Expect the world's most diverse yodeler to work his musical magic for the anticipated 75,000 visitors with a wide-ranging repertoire that includes fast-paced Alpine "bravour" style, Norwegian, Cajun, Western, mouth trumpet and, of course, Jewish yodeling.
"You have to have enough variety," he said, "to not bore them to death."
Christensen really gets a crowd going with classical masterpieces such as the "William Tell Overture" (which he calls, "Oh, no, Kemosabi"). But one particular combination of baritone bellowing, bravura and bawk-bawking is his biggest crowd-pleaser.
"The 'Chicken Yodel,' " he explains, "is my 'Achy-Breaky Heart.' "
It's unlikely, though, that Billy Ray Cyrus could cluck like him. He isn't a one-hit wonder, either. Pro yodelers are a rarity, so he's a hot commodity, even a celebrity in parts of Wisconsin and North Dakota. The yodeling legend has performed in Singapore, on Caribbean cruise ships, and on remote Johnston Island, a U.S. military base located between Guam and Hawaii. He's sold numerous copies of his 10 albums, including "Hooked on Yodeling" and "U2 Can Yodel."
Christensen is about to hit the silver screen. His voice, at least. He's the singing double for yodeling-challenged actor Randy Quaid in an upcoming Disney musical feature animation, "Home on the Range." He corrals cattle by crooning "yodeladeledelydelodel."
Yet another example of how it pays to yodel.
Christensen fell in love with the folk-music genre while serving an LDS mission in Austria in the 1970s. He brought several cassette tapes home and taught himself the art by singing along with yodelers while driving the family tractor around the potato fields for up to 15 hours a day.
"It kind of became an obsession," he said.
Or obnoxious, depending on your view. The incessant noise drove his dad bonkers, and he was banished to practicing in the garage. That didn't help much, he admitted. After all, yodeling was once a communication form for farmers in the Alps, so the sound travels well.
Christensen continued tweaking the talent in his tonsils at Brigham Young University. He even brought 15,000 students to their feet during an orientation assembly in the Marriott Center. Several years later, he opened the ears of Disney talent recruiters visiting Provo. So impressed were they with his roller-coaster singing style, he got a gig as a Disney World yodeler.
Christensen considered putting his business degree to use after leaving Disney, but demand for his yodeling soared higher than his falsetto voice. Thirteen years later, he still performs 210 days a year.
So much for the advice of a band teacher to not pursue a musical career. Now he says he'll yodel until he blows a vocal chord. Though dealing with the stigma and jokes and learning to properly switch registers and maintain pitch are challenging, the toughest aspect of his profession is being away from home. It helped that the oldest of four children became part of his act and often traveled with him. Emilie Laudie, who's yodeled since she was 4, will don her dirndl and sing along at Swiss Days.
"Overall," she said, "it's a really good way to bond."
And the bonding didn't just occur with her father.
Her fondest LDS missionary story — of the yodeling variety — was when she noticed something familiar while visiting an elderly Dutch woman in Nashville, Tenn. The first album she made with her father, "Most Beautiful Mountain Yodels," just happened to be sitting on the coffee table. The woman had seen them perform in Utah and snatched a copy of the cassette (available, by the way, at www.masteryodeler.com). She had no idea that the 10-year-old girl on the cover was proselytizing instead of performing.
"I told her who I was, and she just flipped out," Laudie said. "She wouldn't call me Sister Christensen after that. She'd call me by my first name."
Her fellow missionaries also flipped out when they discovered her singing secret.
"Once the elders found out I could yodel, I was the local freak show. They'd back me in a corner until I'd do it. Basically, it was my, 'Uncle!' " she recalls. "People are pretty fascinated when they find out you have a weirdo talent."
The Master Yodeler knows all about that. He's made a career out of it.
If you go . . .
Swiss Days
Where: Midway Town Square
When: Friday and Saturday, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.
Schedule information: www.midwayswissdays.com
E-mail: jody@desnews.com