I had the very exciting opportunity to judge entrants for a talent show at my school the other day. It’s not a responsibility I take lightly. I realize that for some of these prepubescent kids it could make or break their entire future as a YouTube star. It’s a tough job, and not for the faint of heart.
This all being said, I am not above bribery. I was very disappointed when I saw two other judges eating their ‘special ice cream’ that came with a ‘handmade card’ and I got ‘nothing’. Seriously? But I digress.
Every year, I am amazed at the kids that get up in front of judges and peers and put their heart and soul into their ‘talent of the year’. I’m pretty sure I would have turned myself inside out trying to hide from prying eyes at their age. Except for that one time.
I still remember most of the moves for the “Jinglebell Rock” dance I did with my best friend Renee. We were in third grade and we rocked it. I was lucky enough to have parents that were hip and into square dancing. I wore a floofy petticoat and skirt. It was magical. Too bad video cameras hadn’t been invented back then or I’m sure I’d have 6 million views by now.
My other claim to fame would have been in high school Honor Choir. I somehow made it into the elite choir without a ‘real’ audition. (again, death would have happened for sure). I loved being in that choir. I felt like, maybe, I could actually sing! Plus, we got to wear these really cool MAUVE dresses that made us look like we had a girlie shape. Very trendy! I was only one of many (20?) faces in this black and mauve sea of singers, and I never did a solo, but I did stand out due to my gracefulness.
It was the big spring concert. We were not only singing, but doing some amazing choreography that included swinging arms, moving our feet slightly, and running from the back of the auditorium up onto the stage. It was really beyond cool. Instead of our official outfits, we wore jeans and a shirt I can’t remember. I do remember the jeans.
I will never forget those jeans. As a rather tall 5’9 girl with friends that were tiny, the little number on the back of the jeans was a Big Deal. I found jeans in size 5 that I could actually fit in if I pulled them on while lying down with buttered thighs. I could barely walk, and breathing was a total no, but I got those darn things on!
I managed to ‘run’ to the stage, but the stairs just wouldn’t work. I attempted a step and fell forward…..only to be caught by my choir partner Craig. He was super cute, but two years behind me so…my crush didn’t last long. I will forever be grateful for his lightening quick reflexes and the humiliation he undoubtably saved me from.
I can still fit into size 5 jeans, but now I can walk and even breathe. I think the difference is I have zero muscles. Those are overrated anyway. It’s not like I need to run onto stage these days anyway. Cause I said so.