Recitals, as well as rectal exams, have their strong points. At a recital, you finally get to see the fruit of your child's labor. All those hours spent practicing and studying come to fruition, in musical format, so that you can see, hear, and determine for yourself----Am I getting my money's worth?
If these seats are any indication, the answer is, No, I am not.
If I could just sit and watch my daughter do her thing, recitals would be amazing. However, that is not the case. Last year, we learned the hard way, that you have to sit through all three hours of the recital just to watch your kid's 5-minute routine. As one who likes to learn from his mistakes, we enrolled her in an extra class this year. One extra class gets her into three more routines. That's simple math and a great deal. Sure, we pay a little more for the second class, but can you put a price on your child's happiness?
Yes. Yes you can. The price is $52/month.
So this year, twenty minutes of those three hours are spent watching our little princess pirouette, tumble, and cart-wheel to her heart's content. The problem lies in the other 2 hours and 40 minutes. You have to watch other people's kids. And their kids suck.
It's like this: when you watch your child on stage, whether it's playing the piano, singing, or dancing, it's amazing. It doesn't matter how bad your kid actually is. Parents are blinded. It's called the American Idol effect and it makes for a great first few episodes of reality television--the exception being Sanjaya.
When Leah is on stage, I'm in the zone, focused, concentrating on every move she makes. There are no other kids up there. It's just her. It's awesome, she's awesome, everything is awesome. Then, she exits stage right and I'm left having to watch your kids stink up the place.
With nobody to hold my undivided attention, my eyes scan the entire stage watching a dozen students twirl around and flail limbs to their own beat. Good Lord, what's wrong with these kids? I've seen Kung-Fu movies that were less out-of-sync.
The one exception is the 3-4-year old group. Those kids are money. One kid just sat down on stage all night, while another one faced the wrong direction. Best. Performance. Of the night.
Watching the little kids is fun whether they are your children or not. Watching the older kids is sorta creepy. The creepiness level is largely dependent upon the song chosen. I don't want to watch a bunch of prepubescent girls shake their stuff to lyrics like, "Where you thinking of me when you made love to him."
I don't know what the song was, but it provides a strong case for encouraging your children to listen to heavy metal. And, if this rant has done anything, I hope it encourages you to avoid having children. Or, to at least avoid enrolling them in extracurricular activities that result in recitals. If you find yourself in a situation where you have already procreated, don't worry. There are a couple good things about kids. Like this.
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