Everything was great. There was food, coffee, juice and some awesome moms. But, then the music teacher brought in the fourth grade class and they were all holding their recorders. Great. One kid practicing the recorder at home is painful enough. Forty kids playing recorder in a quasi-controlled group is just one way the music teacher can express her feelings about not getting any holiday presents or special accolades during teacher appreciation week. F-U people, I teach your talentless kids and it is a thankless and painful job. I'm going to let you know how much I appreciate you. Welcome to hell on earth people.
Before they began, the music teacher gave a little speech about how the fourth grade had just finished a unit about the Titanic and their first song, they were playing more than one?, was in tribute to the unit. They were playing the theme song from the movie, Titanic, "My Heart Will Go On" and from the first note, I struggled to contain myself. Tears were streaming down my face and my friend Katie had to stop looking at me because she was laughing too. It was positive feedback at its finest. I was grateful that I had one of the twins on my lap to hide behind as I tried to regain my composure. They were murdering a song about death. How ironic.
I never thought of the recorder as a musical instrument. It is just a glorified whistle and is not capable of not sounding like shit. I never heard of anyone at Julliard majoring in recorder. I never heard of anyone doing a recorder recital at Carnegie Hall. What merits does the recorder bring to the music world other than upset the homeostasis within the home of every third grader who touches the horrible offender? Please don't send me YouTube links to people playing the recorder less painfully, I have enough reasons to drink already.
When the second song began, Twin R told me she wanted to dance, and as soon as she got up, her sister joined her. They got up right in front of everyone and danced. When the focus shifted to the two, little, crack butterflies dancing in front of everyone, the music became less painful. The music shifted to the periphery and the girls became the main event. Maybe it was not what the passive/aggressive music teacher had planned, but they saved us all. No therapy needed this week due to recorders.
