Words and Thoughts — February 22, 2024
Hello again, alleged readers! Picture this: You walk into a middle school auditorium, now picture a slightly different middle school auditorium, inside are 100 children. Each child has been supplied with 20 ounces of Mountain Dew, containing the standard 77 grams of sugar included in 20 ounces of Mountain Dew. They’ve all consumed the Mountain Dew. And now it’s time for the spring didgeridoo concert. 100 children. 104 didgeridoos (four extra, just in case).
The program begins. AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck”. Bold choice for the didgeridoo. One child mistimes the circular breathing cadence, momentarily chokes on spit, and throws up Mountain Dew as well as a school lunch hotdog into her didgeridoo. 99 children. 103 didgeridoos.
Child makes a quick recovery before “Thunderstruck”‘s midway point. 100 children. 103 didgeridoos.
Instant segue into Dick Dale’s version of “Misirlou”. You wonder if you locked the car door. There’s nothing you can do about it now anyway. Half of the children, due to confusion regarding a last-minute change to the program, are playing Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” instead of “Misirlou”. A seventh grader, fresh off suspension for eating all of the fruit roll-ups from the PTA fundraiser, decides to use his didgeridoo to knock over the music stand of the child next to him. The weaponized didgeridoo cracks. The music stand topples. 98 children. 102 didgeridoos.
He will be suspended again, but for matters unrelated. The child whose music stand has been toppled begins trying to get the attention of the music teacher. “Mrs. Reesen! Mrs. Reesen!”, you think you can see the child yelling. You can’t hear the child over “Misirlou / My Heart Will Go On”. Neither can Mrs. Reesen. The third song is “Gangnam Style”. The children lobbied hard to have “Gangnam Style” included. Unfortunately, the children playing Celine won’t be done for another minute and a half; it’s the extended version. You decide you almost certainly locked the car. The music stand-less child is looking on with his neighbor now. Fruit Roll-Up fiend is pretending to ride his didgeridoo like a horse. No one can see him in the last row of children. 99 children. 102 didgeridoos. 1 pretend horse.
The children play on. The water stain on the drop ceiling tile in the auditorium, that looks like a man with a cane, that you remember from when you went here, is still there. You wonder what else hasn’t changed. You contemplate going to the restroom to see if your initials are still carved on the stall wall. You can’t get up now though. You also can’t tell if the band is onto a fourth song or not. They’re not. You wonder what ever happened to the lunch lady that would always chase you out of the cafeteria kitchen with a broom. Roughly half of the children stop playing. The other half are a minute and a half away finishing “Gangnam Style”. Mrs. Reesen continues to conduct. Some of the finished children start playing again, a few try to find the spot in “Gangnam Style” that the others are at; others never knew how to play the didgeridoo in the first place and just make up their own noises. Mrs. Reesen has never been prouder. Mrs. Reesen has very low standards. Mrs. Reesen signals the end of the program with a flourish of her hands. The audience claps. You clap. 100 children. 102 didgeridoos.
And there you have “Eleanor Rigby”, if the Beatles were a good band.