Putting the Pedal to the Medal (Figuratively)

This past weekend was a big event for our choir department. Every year, we throw this holiday concert where local middle and elementary schools can come sing, dance, and be cute. The show choirs are expected to perform at least one of their numbers for the concert, so I needed to go (I probably would have gone anyway just to see some little munchkins). Here is the thing you need to understand: show choir is like learning how to drive. You practice your driving for hours and hours at a time. Your driver's education teacher yells at you because, "You totally just ran that stop sign and did a wheelie off the railroad tracks!" Sometimes, you actually have to study things. There are rule books about show coir just like there are rules about driving. Finally, once you have mastered the act of driving in a straight line and using turn signals, you go to the DOT. You wait for a long time. You wait and you wonder, "What if I forget everything I have learned? What's an engine?!" But then, when they call your number, you walk proudly up to the table state your name, sign some papers, prove to them you know what you are doing, and get your liscense (I'm pretty sure there's some sort of metaphor about show choir in there)!

Anyway, my point is that show choir takes a lot of work and help. It would be very difficult to take up driving by yourself. An instructor or a parent is necessary. I had no idea that turn signals were even used until my dad told me. Our director had gotten some minor surgery before the concert, so we did not get to practice with him when we ran through the number in costume and with the band. We used our best judgment as to whether or not something was working, but it still felt like we were missing something. Still, our performance was fine, I thought, and the crowd seemed to enjoy it. My nervousness for the number may also have been because I didn’t know quite a few of the words and my underwear kept bunching up. You know what, never mind. I’m pretty sure that it was just the underwear.

The Only Time It Is Appropriate To "Flash" Someone

Have you seen that one commercial for T. J. Max and Marshall where the woman is going up the escalator and the people going down start singing Christmas carols, but they change the words so it is about gifts? It is super corny. Every time I see it, I think to myself, "I don't understand why these people are singing. Couldn't they just yell over to her about the great sales that Marshall's is having? Is Ice Road Truckers on?" Well, the other day, I was watching one of my favorite shows on TV right now, Modern Family. in the episode, one of the characters took place in what is referred to as a "Flash Mob." This is when several people randomly perform a choreographed dance routine in a usually crowded place. After seeing this intense choreographed routine I thought to myself, "Oh. Maybe it isn't so bad to just break out into random song or dance. Maybe...just maybe...we all need to break out of our shells....I should probably just buy Ice Road Truckers on DVD because it's never on..."

So, I googled "flash mob" and one of the first results was a large group of people performing "Do Re Mi" from "The Sound of Music" at a train station in Berlin. It starts off with two dancers: a man and a girl that appears to be his daughter. At this point people begin to watch them with looks of disapproval. "Why are they dancing? This is a public location! There is no room for this hooligan dancing!" they were probably thinking (I'm not sure why they sound like Professor Umbridge from Harry Potter, but they do). Then several other people join in the dance. It is mostly couples so people believe that this is just an average choreographed dance routine with professional dancers and begin to get excited. Then, they see that their friends are joining in. "What's going on? This is madness?!" they scream. Next comes the big wave of school children down the flight of stairs who force the patron to the side of the railings as they shimmy their way down. Finally, all of the "flash mob" dancers join in the center of the station for a unison dance. You see close ups of old, homeless ladies, business men, hikers, teachers, teenagers, and several other odd combinations. The dance with a loud applause from the watching audience and the people continue doing what they were doing before as if none of it had even happened.

I need to get in on one of these. End of story.

Ho! Ho! Hizzah!

Christmas is amazing. It is the season where you can pointlessly buy things that you would never buy for yourself and give them to other people as gifts. Also, it is the one time that I can shove as many marshmallows as i want into my hot cocoa without anyone sarcastically saying, "Wow. I didn't know that many marshmallows could fit in one mug." The main point of Christmas, though, is my first point: giving.

When, i am working, it is easy to put customers into certain categories based on the amount of friendliness they show. There are customers who are not nice. The only thing that these customers will say to you is, "Weren't you going to ask me if I had any coupons? Because i did. Guess I can't use them anymore." Then, there are the moderately nice customers who ask you how you are doing and might engage in friendly conversation, if provoked. Finally, there are the VERY nice people. You don't even need to say anything and they are already telling you about the barbeque they had last weekend and the big, fancy pot roast they are cookin' tonight!

So, the other day, this woman comes through my line. I would label her a moderately nice person who did not seem that interested in conversation, but looked pleasant. I scanned through all of her groceries and she slid her card to pay for them. Almost instantly, after the transaction had gone through, the man behind me realized that I had scanned his groceries, as well. It was too late to save the price from being put on the woman's card. I told them there was no way that I could take the purchase off of her card and the woman said, "It's alright. I will just pay for it. Merry Christmas." At that point, my heart must have grown three sizes larger because I almost let out a huge Christmas sigh. The man said, "I will just pay you in cash." Still, it was the thought that counted. That is what the Christmas season is all about: allowing people who are only moderately pleasant to overshadow those that are VERY nice.

Warry Wotter and the Wamber of Wecrets

Let me tell you a little story. The protagonist, a strapping, young fellow who goes by the name of SlimShaney, finds himself wanting to go to the most celebrated event of the year. This event would not only be the best moment of his year, but the thing that defines him for the rest of his natural-born life! It was the midnight premiere of a movie we will refer to as "Warry Wotter wand whe Weathly Wallows: Wart Wone." The major obstacle that stood in the way of SlimShaney achieving his ultimate dream was....the beast. She was the most feared creature throughout the land with teeth the size of two-story houses, claws that made even the bravest lion tremble in fear, and the ability to nag so hard that a child two miles away would instantly die of boredom. If Slim wished to attend this premiere, he must first slay this beast and rid the town of its evil.

So, SlimShaney gathered all of his finest weapons and marched toward the cave where this creature lived. Upon arriving, he approached the front door...but it was already open. He peeked his head in to see if the creature was lurking nearby but saw nothing in sight except for an ugly white couch and a bunch of pictures of the creature's daughter (which the monster obviously preferred over her very attractive son). Once Slim had entered, the door quickly swung shut behind him. "Show yourself!" he shouted. A low, grumbling hiss was heard from the basement stairway.

The hideous creature leapt from the basement. "Why do you come here?" she asked in an annoyingly piercing tone. "I have come because I wish to go to the midnight premiere this Thursday!" The creature let out the most vicious roar that Slim had ever heard. Children playing majong in China gasped when they heard that roar. "You can't go the midnight premiere!!" it yelled. "Why not?" Slim shouted back. "Because. YOU HAVE FINALS!!" With that, she sprang from her spot and attacked Slim. He quickly dodged and what followed was some of the most intense fighting in all of history. Eventually, the creature managed to knock all of Slim's weapons out of his hands. He stood there, defenseless, as the monster spread her jaws and swallowed him whole. That, my friends is the end of my story and the end of SlimShaney.

In case you did not understand, the evil monster was my mother, I was Slim, and she did not let me go to the midnight premiere of Harry Potter. I am still upset, obviously.

If You're Happy and You Know It....Eat

It is hard to be a happy person when you are not. You ask any naturally happy person how that stay so optimistic and they will tell you about how easy it is and how everyone can be just as blah blah blah....sunshine....rainbows...blah blah. It's not that easy. When you have to wake up for school every day at 5:45, you begin to harbor a slight amount of resentment. I usually begin the year with a proper amount of friendliness, fresh off of summer vacation, but, by the end of the long, overstretched school year, my ability to feel anything has been depleted. I no longer care who gets hit in the hallway with my backpack or who is below me when I drop eggs down the stairway (that one might be a bit extreme, but you catch my drift).

So, here is SlimShaney's guide on how to be happy:
Step one: Take time to enjoy yourself. Sure, you may have an extremely long essay due tomorrow, but take that extra time to watch YouTube videos and check for friend requests. Have last week's Glee taped? Go ahead, watch it. It was good.
Step Two: Don't smile if you don't have to. If someone smiles at you and you have no genuine happy feeling, don't smile back. Now, if they smile, stick their hand in their armpit, and make farting noises, go ahead and smile....because that's funny!
Step Three: Don't talk to acquaintances. If you met someone once, at a party you were only at for ten minutes, don't strike up a conversation. It will be much better if you merely sit there in awkward silence. Remember, an awkward silence a day keeps potential friends away!
Step Four: Eat a lot. I find that I am most happy when I am scarfing down some Pringles or chugging a Pepsi.
Step Five: Don't eat too much. You know that feeling you get when you just ate too much at Ruby Tuesday and it feels like your stomach might explode? Yeah...that is not fun. And finally....

Step Six: Ignore this list. This is the way that I make myself feel happy. We all have different things that make us joyful. You simply have to find those things and hold on to them. For me, that main thing is friends and family that I can rely on and trust no matter what....oh yeah.....and food. :)

Ohhh hey.......yooouuuu.....

While I was working today, a man came through my line. I had been somewhat rushing through the last few orders so I did not look up when I said, "How are you today?" He said that he was good and I continued scanning his groceries. Halfway through his order, he asked me, "Hey, did you go to (Insert the name of my elementary school here)?" I looked up. I had not thought about elementary school since middle school when I longed for the days of recess and snack time. "Yes I did." I said. "Well," he responded, "I used to be an administrator there. I'm Mr. (Insert difficult to pronounce name here) and I remember you." Crap. I didn't remember him at all. I stood there for about five seconds with a somewhat blank expression on my face and then I figured I should just tell him the truth. I said, "Ohhhh yeah! I remember you, too! That's so weird! It's been a while! A long, long time...." He continued to ask me questions about what grade I was in and what kind of activities I had gotten involved in and the only thing that I could think of to ask was, "Would you like your Dr. Pepper left out?" It was awkward.

Let me clarify something so that I don't seem like a huge jerk. I went to two different elementary schools. The school that Mr. Whatshisface was an administrator at was my first school that I went to when I moved here during kindergarten. The second school was built during my second grade year and by third grade I had been transferred. So, I would have only had this administrator for three years! This was also during a time that no one can remember! I don't even remember what my kindergarten teacher looks like! (I'm going to stop this paragraph now because it just makes me sound worse).

By sharing this story, my question is: should I be responsible for remembering him? People forget others all the time, so why do I feel so bad that I didn't remember him at all. Seriously, his face was like a blank canvass, but my mind was looking for things that made it memorable. I've met a lot of people in my life, we all have, so why should I punish myself for not remembering this man? Still, I can't escape the feeling that I should remember him. He didn't have a name tag on that said "Hi my name is Mr. Idontcare," but I still feel bad for not remembering him.

Just Keep Singing....Just Keep Singing.....

I am getting really nervous. All-State auditions are this coming weekend which means that my life will be consumed for the next week. Instead of having regular choir, we will be practicing with only All-State quartets. Instead of having a life after school, I will be practicing...a lot. Also, instead of being completely stress free, I will be a wreck. A big, fat, nasty wreck that no one can avoid.

We have been practicing this music now for around two months and I realize that I should probably feel ready, but I simply don't. Our group hasn't practiced enough...I haven't practiced enough! The other day we had a workshop with a woman who does vocal lessons for the all-state music. Out of my four-person quartet, I was the one who received the most criticism. "Slim, try not to sing so gruff." "Slim, try to stop singing around the pitch." "Slim, eye contact!" It was embarrassing! Hear I have been for the last two months singing this music and this lady notices all of the things I am doing wrong in one hour. It made me feel so bad about myself. Still, I can make the best of this. She may think I am a terrible singer, but if I practice as much as possible and focus on the things she pointed out, I can (maybe) make All-State!

Singing is hard. I feel like a lot of people do not realize that. There are so many different things that you need to think about and implement into your performance. Are you using the right vowel shape? Is your tone too bright? Are you standing up straight? If I wanted to stand up straight, I would have joined Manners Club (that would be kind of hilarious if that actually existed). I honestly did not know that by signing up to do All-State, I would bringing this much stress upon myself. Sure, I have learned a lot, but what if, in the end, I do not make it? Was all of my hard work for nothing? Honestly, I don't really care that much. If I do not make it, I do not make it. There's always next year.  But if I do not make it next year, you better move aside because this train wreck is taking everyone down with it....just kidding.