HM's Opinion

I am about to be politically incorrect. That's your warning. Don't read on if you are the kind to raise a ruckus. Just sayin'...

A couple weeks ago we hosted the conference choir festival. Or something artsy like that. There were several hundred extra students in the building, singing their hearts out. They rehearsed all day, then presented a concert. Which could have been a mite longer, if you ask ol' Hillbilly Mom's opinion. One of the guest directors came all the way from Texas, and had been to Belarus on an international singing thingy. So it was not a rinky-dink affair.

The guys' chorus went first. They had three songs. I recognized two of them. The second one I was not familiar with, but a lot of the kids were. It was 'The Auctioneer' by Leroy Van Dyke. That's not my issue. My issue was the first song those courageous young men sang. I recognized it when the director named the selections. It was 'Viva L'amour'. Perhaps you will recognize it. The majority of the song consists of "Viva la viva la viva l'amour, viva la viva la viva l'amour, viva l'amour, viva l'amour...viva la campagne." OK, so to us hicks, it sounds like viva la more, viva la company. But still. Those poor guys. Can you imagine practicing that all day, and then leading off your concert with it? Maybe you see nothing wrong with it. But the question that popped into my mind as the first strains of music began was:

"Could you possibly pick a GAYER song for these poor boys to sing?"

Not that there's anything wrong with that. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has been acquainted with a few gays in her time. I mean them no disrespect. But c'mon. It's hard enough to get high school boys to take choir. Give them something meatier to sing. Maybe the Daniel Boone theme song, or Jerry Jeff Walker's 'Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother'. And their cause was not helped by the third selection, 'There's Nothin' Like a Dame'. A showtune. Because that still sounds gay to me.

I cooked up a plan to get even with one of the choirboys. Not for singing gay songs at the assembly. My mind has taken a leap to another topic. Because it's all about ME here at the Mansion. No. Here's the deal. Choirboy tries to sleep in my class, without actually sleeping, because I told him I would write him up if he did. He's not a bad kid. It's a game we play. He goes as far as he can, but straightens up when I tell him. Like putting up his hoodie. I don't allow that. It's like wearing a hat, which is against the rules. Besides, a lot of them try to listen to iPods like that, so you can't see the ear thingy.

I enlisted the help of two choirgirls in that class. The plan is in place. We're just waiting for the opportunity. When the choirboy lays his head on his arms and closes his eyes, they will go to the back of the room like they are putting their books on the shelf. Then they will come up the rows on each side of Choirboy's desk. They will lean over next to his head, and start singing 'Viva L'amour'. Dolce at first, then building to an embarrassing crescendo. Because he has to hate that song. He has to.

But that's just MY opinion. I shall keep it to myself. I've only mentioned it to my #1 son, who is in the middle school choir. He hates that song. When he acts up, I sing it at the top of my lungs. He holds his ears and screams, "Make it stop!"

I shall not prevent anyone from singing it. Perhaps you've all got it stuck in your heads right now. Aww. Too bad. So sad. Let if never be said that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom did not 'let every good fellow now join in a song.'