…cue the Grieg.

Last night’s rehearsal wasn’t all that bad. I told a friend in email this morning that at least it didn’t make me want to jump off the nearest bridge. Could the morning be breaking?

I go through this every year. There’s a definite order of things. First, teach the music. That’s fun. The singers are learning new stuff, and they immediately decide what they really dig, and which songs are not their favorites — but the learning is kind of fun. You know, like a discovery thing.

Then choreography rehearsals start, and some of the happy-happy falls away — especially for the kids who are not natural dancers (and they outnumber those who are). Frustration takes over almost immediately; they can’t do a fa-lap, the time step is out of the question, they can’t get the kicks high enough. I keep telling them that it’s a lot to learn at one time, and that they will get it eventually. It’s a long wait.

Next step: putting the stuff onstage with the singing and choreo. Train wreck. Lots of hair-pulling, and a small number of frustrated comments from the piano. All given in love, of course.

Penultimate phase: things actually look like they might someday, possibly, with an insane amount of luck, come together. That’s where we are right now, 24 days till opening.

We might make it.

FO

DISLCAIMER: I hate on FOX News and CNN in equal measure. In fact, I hate all network/cable news. There is no such thing as unbiased TV news reporting anymore. The end.

The topic is completely incendiary, and I can see both sides. From an edu-political standpoint, I find the union guy’s comments somewhat simplistic, if not circular:

We don’t protect bad teachers. We protect teachers’ rights.”

Um, ok.

Really though, I’m interested in your comments. Having been both a parent and a teacher, it’s sticky. Maybe some of my colleagues who usually just lurk (and you know who you are) will weigh in, but I’m interested in where everyone stands. BoomR is on the high seas, so I doubt he’ll see this for awhile, but I’m sure he will have something to add. How bout it, fiends?

PS – just found this video link on a friend’s Facebook profile. Hysterical!
The Beatles – 1,000 Years Later

…at the end of the tunnel is, for once, not a train.

What will I do with a Christmas break not filled with reading, research and writing papers? A lot of fun stuff. OK, well there’s that Dinner Theatre thing and building the new Joomla website for the school district, but outside of that, it’s grandsons, girl talk, good times, and Greektown. Now whaddya thinka that.

Last night was my high school choir Christmas concert. I have been doing these for many, many, mazenny years, and I must say that this one could have topped most for overall sound, smooth operation (except for the 2nd number when I apparently motioned Travis down to do his solo and we weren’t to his tune on the program yet) and general comments from the audience on the atmosphere and programming. I was delighted.

Most of my students know I do not specifically adore Christmas music. I guess the rules change when you have to sing it. And singing it for 3.5 months nonstop (and in my case, multiple times in several rehearsals a day) can be downright brutal. But listen — I ain’t grindin’ no ax. I love my job and my students too, though I’m sure they might very much like me to slip and fall off a pier some days. But he who say there is no fun to be had in public school, and that the youth of America have gone sour need only come out to my 30-by-60-foot cage next to the football stadium.

All right, enough of this happy carp. Time to gear up to do it all again tomorrow night for the middle school. Same circus, smaller clowns.

How’s yer Tuesday so far?

Fink out.

And always proud of them.

Last night, my v-jazz ensemble had their annual anthem gig at the Q, where the Cavs made short work of Phoenix.

If you’ve never done something like this before, it’s quite the experience. First, you audition by sending an mp3 of your group doing the SSB. Then they contact you, and the smackdown begins. This is the part I hate, especially in this economy. The pressure to sell tickets to your community is immense. I mean, I’m certain these guys are paid on commission. You can hear the disappointment over the phone line when you say, “I’m sorry — times are really hard here for folks, and it’s Christmas time, and I just asked these parents to pay enormous deposits on their kids’ choir tour accounts, and we just closed a show and had another gig last week…” It’s like they’re just vacantly nodding their heads…then they say, “So. You sold only 32 tickets then?”

Kak.

Then you get the forms filled out (each kid has to sign a waiver, saying it’s OK to film them), report 90 minutes early to the event level, warm up, act silly, get pumped….and then they walk you out to the little ramp space right off the court. Excitement.

Waiting to enter. It's a crazy environment, but exciting.

The center court fuss fest. People, questions, and cables.

The big moment, in front of 20,562 silent spectators.

As always, they made me proud, and I hope they all had fun. Next year, we’re taking a Cavs break. I’m going to call the Injuns and the Browns and see what’s shaking there.

Yipes, I’m late. Have a good Thursday, fiends.

FO

I mean, really. It just makes you want to jump off a cliff.

“Type A” influenza has struck our cast in various and sundry manifestations. We’re doing Bye Bye Birdie, right? Well, Conrad Birdie is in bed for the next couple of days. The other leads are at least one flavor of sick, as are about 15 of the supporting cast and chorus. One of my dancers stuck it out to the end with a raging fever, and I lost a clarinet/sax player about halfway through rehearsal. We open in 62 hours.

This has got to be building my character.

But like I told Mavis this morning: Look at the bright side! We could postpone indefinitely, and then no one would get paid.

Seriously, it’s all good. The kids are troupers for sure. The orchestra sounded great in spite of my hacking at the keys. Always good to see my fellow pit dwellers; especially Adam, who’s likely twice the musician I am but never says it out loud (at least where I can hear it).

So hey, I don’t have it so bad, do I? What am I complaining about? Finkleman, Finkleman. What a donkey.

But the tea is getting cold and the hour is getting late…gotta git. Have yourself a merry little Tuesday, fiends. I’ll update you on our state of entropy tomorrow — bet you can’t stand the wait.

Fink out.