So, I'm hurt, but not injured, which is a relief. I was rather afraid to stretch the sore spots without some professional supervision. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in a right angle pose. Especially if my yoga tard started chafin' me.
Two more petty annoyances from the aftermath of the accident. Both relate to Officer Not Bright But Friendly. As I struggled to find a comfortable position in the back of his squad car (I couldn't bend my right knee very well), he informed me that my rear license plate was illegal because the dealer cover obscured the letters. His theory was that the cover obscured the bottom of the F, so that it appeared to be an E. I was agreeable at the time, but have since grown quite irritated that he thought it was appropriate to scold me immediately after an accident for driving with a license plate cover that no one had a problem with for 5 years and that the dealership put on every car they sold because it obscured part of a letter that didn't exist. That information was just as valuable as the advice that I could fill out the mandatory accident report online. I filled out the written form right after the accident. I like to strike while the iron is still shaky and a bit muddled. I brought the report to work on Monday to mail, but didn't have a large envelope. "Aha!", I thought. "I'll just fill it out online." So I filled the whole thing out on line, until I got to the last step. The last step instructed me to print out the form and mail it in. Maybe I've been on the Internets too long, but it seems to me that mailing it in reduces the convenience factor considerably.
The most painful part of the weekend, as it turns out, was the Rock 'n' Roll Revival on Sunday. Some of the soloists were genuinely talented. Some of the solo performers were not quite so talented, but were entertaining. The rest -- and there were 37 songs with 35 featured singers -- couldn't find a sharp on the piano if you took away all the white keys.
37 songs meant that these poor kids had to learn a dozen or so dance routines -- each. In theory. In reality, one or two kids learned almost all the routines while the others copied them on stage.
I don't mean to be overly critical of high schoolers who just want to perform. That's why musicals have a chorus. I don't think you should give a kid a solo just because she wants to sing. I guess I admire the director for being consistent (or stubborn) enough to give every kid a solo who wanted to sing. Big Sister Hammer and I agreed, though, that at 3 hours, the show was too long.
Now. The truly painful part of the Rock 'n' Roll Revival show was not the fact that so many of the songs were full of bad advice for girls or that I was uncomfortable watching people dance in the aisles a few feet away from me. The truly painful part was not even the man behind me who was consistently amazed at the worst performances. It's possible to have a good attitude and still recognize the difference between crap and not crap. Not that you have to always call crap crap, but you shouldn't pretend that crap is just as good as not crap.
No. The most painful part was not when the same man behind me started knitting. Or when he started to talk about knitting. Or when he started talking about praying while knitting. Or even when he explained how the knitting helped him concentrate while he prayed. No. The most painful part was when he listed for his neighbor all the press clippings he has garnered for his praying while knitting. I was mentioned in the Oregon Observer when my little league team won the Intermediate League Championship. But I don't go around with my glove and bat dropping as a pretense to pry my press accolades into conversation.
The question for inquiring minds like me is what were you doing at the performance in the first place. Last time I checked Big Sister Hammer was not yet in high school. I know I black out periodically from too many New Castles, but I don't think I blacked out for 10 years.
By 3:22 PM, at
My niece was a featured performer. She did an excellent job during Jump, Jive n' Wail. Or however Louis (Jungle Book) Prima titled it.<< Home