So This Is Festivus

There's nothing finer to do around here, on a frigid Monday night in January, than haul yourself over to the school gym for a Holiday Concert. Wouldn't you agree?

Well, whether or not you agree, that's what we did last night. Among the myriad of annoyances dropped at our doorstep in December - courtesy of mammoth ice storm and multiple blizzards - was the cancellation of Fifth Grader's Winter Musicale. Third Grader's went on as scheduled, but you'll notice I did not write about it this year. Because honestly, not much to say about it. The school replaced both the music teacher and the librarian/chorus teacher/organizer-of-all things-presentation-related this year, and the newbies don't seem to be quite as driven as their predecessors. So there were no elaborate sets, no overly contrived themes, and no giant raccoon heads to hide my view of my own child. Just your basic singing. Pleasant, but not blogworthy, I'm afraid.

Fifth Grader's concert, on the other hand, had built-in potential. There are instruments involved. And band instructors. You may recall that I have a crush of sorts on the band instructor. Plus, we get to enjoy the awkwardness of eleven- and twelve- year olds who have been herded onto a stage in front of their parents and who have developed just enough self-consciousness to not know, from one song to the next, whether they are enjoying themselves or are completely humiliated by this experience. It's fun.

The best thing I can say about the night, honestly, is at least that's over with. Not that the kids didn't do a fine job. It's just that listening to songs about Christmas lights and Santa Claus and spinning dreidles in mid-January is beyond corny. It's corny enough in the throes of the holidays, but in January? It's just painful. As for the band instructor - well, I won't lie, I was momentarily thrilled. But the key word there is "momentarily", because what I really have a crush on is band instructor's passion for his job, and his demeanor last night fell more in the Decidedly Underwhelmed category. You can't really blame the guy. The moment has passed, you know what I mean? "St. Nick's Salsa" just doesn't pack the same punch after the deadline.

Anyway, the program said there was also some singing, but I can't be sure because I didn't really hear any. I saw a lot of kids up on stage moving their mouths around, and the music teacher waved her arms around quite a bit, presumably to persuade them to be audible, but no dice. The renditions of Good King Wenceslas were blessedly reduced to only two this year from last year's high of five - but again, it could have been twenty for all I know, because you couldn't hear a thing. Apparently this year's batch of fifth and sixth graders are the coolest kids who ever lived. Hence, too cool to sing.

So there it is, my review of this year's Public School Festival of Holiday Music. It's a little flat, I know, but you work with what you've got, people. I'm a bit of a stressball this week - please note the time that I am writing this as evidence of my stressball state - but I hope to be back here again tomorrow. Perhaps I will indulge you with some details of my stress. There are many details. I know you are dying to hear about it, as you are all probably falling a little short on your own stress these days. Because aren't these fun times right now? Right. Superfun.

One last thing: go read my new column. Go. Right now. Don't argue with me!