Monday, March 5, 2012

The mythical nose picking opera

When I was about five or six, my Uncle dated an opera singer.

My Mum and Nanna made the mistake of taking me to one of her concerts. I was bored and began climbing all over squeaky chairs.
("Who brings their child to the opera? How rude.")

Nanna told me that I was impolite and needed to quieten down. This logic does not work on a five year old. I continued to roll around on the seats.

She leaned over, "Did you hear that? She just sung about picking her nose!"

I sat there as still as I possibly could for the rest of the show. Straining to hear the illicit lyrics that never came.

When I went back to school the next day, I decided to take class singing to a marvellous new level.

We began to sing Miss Mary Mac, and I pulled out my secret weapon. All the other children sat on the mat and sung, but I stood up and expressed myself. In full operatic voice.
Or whatever that actually sounds like for a five year old.

It definitely involved standing or at least kneeling for the appropriate lung expansion.

I continued this until one day I took a moment to snap out of my singing rapture. Kneeling on the mat, arms out wide, singing as high as I possibly could, I opened my eyes and looked around.

The children were horrified.

I sunk to the ground and proceeded to sing in a very normal voice.

Nothing would ever compare to that fleeting opera ecstasy.

2 comments:

leila said...

looooooooooooooooove! I LOLd.

golriz said...

amazing. why am i only finding this blog post now. it's the best. x

 

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