Monday, June 21, 2010

Poetic Justice.......

I don't know what made me think of this story tonight on my way home from line dance class.... But as soon as I thought of it, I thought to myself, "Whew! There's a blog topic for tonight and I don't have to sit there in front of a blank screen." It's the little things that make me happy.

Way, way back about a hundred years ago, when I was in college, I sang in the Women's Glee Club. Every quarter I was there. Because I just liked singing, and it filled up some elective credits. Almost everyone else in the glee club was a music major, and it was a requirement for them to sing in one of the campus organizations.

We were invited once to sing at the Southern Division Convention of the American Choral Directors Association. No, I didn't remember all that. I just got the record -- RECORD!!!!! -- out to get the name of the organization. The convention was being held in Knoxville, Tennessee, and we had to get matching dresses and all that jazz.

I was an Alto II, and the section leader for that section went on to become Miss Georgia and compete in the Miss America pageant (she was second runner up. Had to look that one up too.). All of that has NOTHING to do with this story.

I remember our director, whom we ADORED UNABASHEDLY, was going over the rules, expectations, and schedule one day during rehearsal. I don't remember why it came up, but she said, "And be aware that the drinking age in Tennessee is 19."

The drinking age in our state at that time was 18. Although I was a sophomore, I wasn't 19 yet.

My mouth went into gear before my brain could stop it, and I blurted out -- loudly -- "OH NO!!!!!!" No one else was saying anything. It was kind of like when you're talking at the top of your lungs over the music in a bar and the power goes out. Sort of.

Everyone laughed, and the director raised her eyebrows at me, and rehearsal went on.

On the day of our performance, I distinctly remember eating some shrimp salad. At a buffet. One of those that kind of sits out in the hotel lobby or something. Shrimp salad. Buffet. Sitting out. I think you know where this is going.

I made it through the performance, but there was approximately a lifetime of picture taking. I was about to pass out. Because I am short and ALWAYS on the front row, I knew it was going to be quite a scene when I toppled forward. Somehow I got the idea that if I could just take my shoes off, everything would be all right. The girl next to me figured out what I was about to do, and she hissed, "DON'T. YOU. DARE."

So I didn't take my shoes off, they finally finished taking pictures, and I didn't faint. I beat a hasty retreat to my room, and while everyone else was out partying that night, I was praying to the porcelain gods.

On the bus on the way home the next day, the director said something about not seeing me the night before.

She had no idea.


Side story, and I'm not making this up:

There were three couples at that time with the female in the Women's Glee Club and the male in the Men's Glee Club.

Tony and Joni.
Cheryl and Ferrell.
Me and..... Michael. My name does not rhyme with Michael.

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