So last night I went to the middle school winter chorus concert -- sixth and seventh grade version. The eighth-graders get their own concert due to their awesomeness and to cut down on the drugs they sell to the youngsters. Just kidding, Mrs. Fitzgerald!
Let me say to you now that you have not lived until you have heard ninety sixth-graders sing "The Hallelujah Chorus." Ninety sixth-graders who make up four different classes. Four different classes that have had no opportunity to rehearse together. Contemplate this, my people, and then imagine "The Hallelujah Chorus." That's right -- use the Think Method like they did in The Music Man -- and at the concert last night. The execution of the song was actually relatively excellent, but we enjoyed an unexpected treat when the microphone from the Jazzercize class across the hall in the cafeteria added an extra track to the accompaniment written by Handel. "Pump! Pump! Let me see you sweat!" gave the music an extra je ne sais quoi that I'm sure old Georg would have appreciated.
I did enjoy myself immensely because there is no fear like the fear of a seventh grade girl who is performing her very first solo, in front of five hundred parents and siblings -- and there is no thunderous applause like the thunderous applause she receives at the end of her truly terrific song. Her parents beamed the entire time -- and her little brother slept. It was awesome.
Unfortunately due to my crappy seat I have no glamour shots of this fabulous night . . .
. . . other than of the sunny girl and her BFF, Jolie Blonde, who are all about the glamour.
I stood up to get this shot with the ever-ready iPhone, thus humiliating the youngest urchin who cannot even be seen in this picture. But do you see the girls over on the left, with their arms crossed? They stood that way the entire night, while singing their hearts out. This is the classic "I am mortified and self-conscious because people are looking at me" middle school girl pose. They'll grow out of it.