Last night, my middle school choirs gave their spring concert. Just when you think that 11-14-year-olds possess little more than the keen and often-practiced ability to suck the very marrow from your bones, they get up on stage and make art.

I often hear the question from audience members, “How do you get that sound out of those kids?” Well I must admit that I wish it were all about my sparkling mad skills, but alas, without these willing and talented singers, I got nothin’. I’ll go as far as to say that it’s a unique partnership of their great attitudes and innate talent, and my burning wish to live vicariously through them. Many of them think I don’t care much for them and that I’m pretty much a shrew/hag…guess I need to hone my interpersonal skills. But the joy I get from hearing them do something well is pretty much worth the half-hour drive and the low salary.

I’m looking forward to the high school concert on Monday, so I can envy their experience at singing great jazz and fine old spiritual and Broadway arrangements. Ok, I’m looking forward to it being over, too, so I can focus my full and enthusiastic attention on my Aesthetics and Criticism class. Joy and bliss.

Somebody shoot me.

Fink out.