Well, I guess I'll have to tell you about Pansy Pickren's gigantic second grade musical extravaganza, "The Barnyard Follies." We were all given tryouts and I was awarded a major role, that of the FOX, the villain of the piece! My dear old mother worked long and hard sewing up a costume for me: wire frame covered with brown cloth for a muzzle, big bushy tail, the whole nine yards.

Somewhere, earlier in this thread, I described singing duets with my good buddy, Johnny Sims, as we walked to school. Johnny sang lead, I sang high harmony in my boy soprano voice. Let me tell you, kids, we were hot! Johnny sang in his own key, and did it damned well. We could break your heart singing to our old mule in "Gold Mine in the Sky." Johnny tried out for "The Barnyard Follies," too. Trouble is, Pansy Pickren could only play piano in the key of C. Johnny was comfortable in the key of G. So he did his thing and she did hers, after which Johnny was told that he could be in the big production, but he would only be one of the many chickens, and when it came time for all of the chickens to sing the big finale, Johnny was told to stand in the back row and "just move your beak; don't make a sound, 'cause, Johnny, you can't sing!"

It was many weeks, maybe months, before Johnny would sing with me again as we walked to school. In those days, a teacher's word was law.

True story. Caroline says she's glad teachers aren't like that anymore. But it seems to have happened to Art Thieme, too, and he's decades younger than we are, so... Tell me it ain't so, Art!

Sandy