Do you ever reflect on your life? Do you think about major events that occurred? Do you remember events that changed who you where? I do.
And adding fuel to the fire is the fact that I have a tremendous memory. In fact, I can remember detailed events dating back to nursery school. Unfortunately, with that being said, that also gives me an elaborate database of bad memories that I sometimes would like to forget.
For example, it’s a running joke at my house when I say, “I better never see my fifth grade music teacher again.”
When I was in the fifth grade, the big trend was being in the chorus. Practically the entire class wanted to try out. I remember only a few people staying back in the classroom that day - those who had absolutely no interesting in singing.
Now, even though this was the fifth grade, we still had to audition. I was in the back of the room and sat through student after student singing a few lines. Even though some of their voices were awful, the teacher kept telling each one they made it. I was the last kid to audition. There was nobody in the room but me and the teacher - which was good because I was very nervous. I sang the first few lines of the song and then she stopped me. She told me that I didn’t have a good voice and that she didn’t think I should be in the chorus.
Of course I was devastated and actually cried in the bathroom afterwards. LOL. To this day I know my singing voice is terrible. But back then, it was just as lousy as 95% of the other kids who auditioned. But yet, I was the only student who didn’t make the chorus. I somehow felt that it was for other reasons.
But I didn’t give up. I went back and auditioned the next year as a sixth grader and made it. However, after all of the students auditioned, I still remember the chorus teacher coming in to talk to my sixth grade teacher. She said, “All of the students are done. They all made it, even Craig. He can be in it this year if he really wants to be.” I remember being furious at her comments.
So that leaves me wondering why, to this day, I can’t forget the fifth grade chorus. It will haunt me forever, I guess. An American Idol I’m not.
So in the spirit of confessions and ridding ourselves of bad memories, what is the one of the meanest things someone has ever done to you? Let the complaints begin.