Today the grade school I was at had an assembly to watch a show choir visiting from another grade school. It was fourth and fifth graders, mostly girls with a few boys sprinkled in. Not a very good choir, even by grade school standards, but it was something to do.
There were two girls that caught my attention. One I hated instantly. She had a passably pretty face, with a familiar expression: "I'm really the best one here." She had a couple of solos, and her voice was good, in that I-wanna-be-a-pop-sensation sort of way. A fourth grade Whitney/Mariah in the making. She also had the choreography down well. This is a girl I have known over and over. Pretty and (moderately) talented, and she knows it because everyone tells her so, especially her parents. She takes lessons. She has fashionable clothing, shoes, and hair at all times. She is an insufferable snot to everyone she meets, and just knows she is better than everyone. The first time I saw her, she was trying to pull the microphone out of another girl's hand, so that she could sing her solo. However, the first girl was still singing her own solo, so the little struggle that ensued detracted from it completely. The first girl did not have a great voice or stage presence, but it was still *her* solo.
The other girl I noticed was the tallest person on stage, and extremely thin--a beanpole, to use the old term. You could see self consciousness radiating from her in waves. The only time she ever let herself go was during the last number, in which the kids put on hats, sunglasses, etc. and sang/danced to "Play That Funky Music". (Yup, Wild Cherry.) When she was hidden behind a costume, she actually had some moves. I mean, she was street. Shimmeying and shaking like she knew what was going on. It made me happy and sad, at the same time.
