Not paying full attention to people...
...when they’re talking has gotten me into trouble a few times. Its not that I don’t listen... its just that inside my head, well its mainly comprised of pink fluff (along the lines of candyfloss) and if anything you say gets through the ‘fluff barrier’ its usually twisted around into gibberish, although some information is retained for me to mull over on a rainy day.

Anyhoo I can recall a particular time that caused me grief and I’ll share it with you lovely people... (Seeing as it’s Friday and I have nothing better to do!)

I was about 8 and sitting crossed-legged on the floor of my music class. My teacher was yammering on and I was dreamily staring out of the window thinking whatever an 8-year-old girl thinks about... (In my case probably puppies and sweets) when I was dragged back to reality by the screeching of my name. I turned around and looked at the looming figure, towering above me... “Yes miss?” I replied looking slightly confused... and then it happened!!

By answering my name it seemed I had unknowingly confirmed that I was some sort of Master of the Recorder!!? WTF!! I had neglected to hear that my teacher had been going through a list of names checking to see if we could all play the recorder, apparently she wanted us to form a group (the likes of which have never been seen) and perform in front of the ENTIRE school in an assembly the following week. Well. I. panicked!! I couldn’t very well tell her I didn’t know how to play the recorder, then she’d know I wasn’t listening to her so I did what any fool would do and muddled together some kind of dodgy plan!

We had three days to practice before the assembly, I thought there might be a slim chance that I was naturally talented and would pick up the recorder and dazzle everyone with my skills, sadly this was not the case, I would have to live with the fact that my only musical ability was playing The Wombles theme tune on the keyboard.

Then I had an epiphany, there were five other people in the group; I could probably fade into the background... right? Wrong... not only was I ludicrously shit but I also had no control over the pitch of the noise I was creating... it was horrendous, I was creating ear-bleeding sounds and deafening myself... shit and double shit, I was screwed... there was no way I would be able to play the thing and it was too late to back out now, so I decided to throw caution to the wind, I strolled into the assembly the following week and mimed my way through an entire performance!

Now you may think its easy to mime playing a recorder or any instrument for that matter, but I can tell you from previous experience, its fucking hard... you have to get the look right, the commanding look that says you have a clue what you’re doing, discipline. Also you have to mimic what everyone else is doing at the same time... which is difficult when you’re trying so hard to get the commanding look right!! I thought I was doing well, turns out I was overacting a little too much... evidently I looked a little insane and also like I was playing a tuba rather than a tiny plastic stick with holes in it!

Strangely enough I didn’t get asked to play for the school again!!
(Flim-Flam the Magnificent "You is talking loco and I like it!", Fri 16 Nov 2007, 13:44, 1 reply)

Miming
When younger, I was a member of a choir. (Not a church choir - entirely secular. Hurrah!) I knew that, the next summer, we were going to be invited to sing at the Albert Hall. Horror of horrors, my voice began to break/ slither down the octaves in the September before the concert. Hence I spent the best part of a year miming at rehersals to pretend that I still hadn't hit puberty - the only boy in the world who's ever wanted to give this impression, I'll bet - and then singing a full threee octaves lower than everyone else come the concert.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 16 Nov 2007, 14:19, closed)