Flashback Fridays

Tis the season to have flashbacks to all those holiday and special events related trauma. Last weekend I went to the city for some shopping and lunch to celebrate Jane Austen's 234 birthday. I was in a well known shoe store buying my mother's Christmas present to me (thanks Mom, they're beautiful, how did you know?) The salesman turned out to be a fellow sufferer of the dreaded Piano Recital from way back. He wasn't exactly a friend, as he is between my sister's age and mine, but he was a constant for those years.
The very next day, I received a video of a friends son's first piano recital in my email box. Suddenly, as I listened to his unique tempo of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star I had the vivid recollection of buying a new dress especially for the piano recital. I hated wearing dresses as a child and it was probably very difficult to get me to try one one, let alone be excited about it. Usually this item was a hand-me-down, hand-me-down from my sister via our cousin, but apparently this year were were going to splash out. Or perhaps I finally caught up to my cousin and by the time her hand-me-downs were ready I had already outgrown them. At any rate I remember it as the most uncomfortable piece of clothing I have ever worn, it was a stone coloured pinafore I think, although it was probably called a jumper, or maybe a tunic. I remember it made it extremely difficult to slide down the banister of the church hall while I was waiting for the audience to be seated before the show. I don't remember anything about any of the pieces I ever played at any of the recitals, but I do remember practising my curtsy. Similarly, I don't remember how to play the piano anymore, but I'm a kick ass curtsier.

But wait, there's more:
After that wave of neurotic nostalgia, a friend posted on her blog about her children's Christmas concert that was held last week. (Yes, they still call them Christmas concerts here in monocultural Nova Scotia.) This brought on another wave of Christmas concert flashbacks for me to endure. Unlike the piano performances, I can remember a lot about the concerts from my elementary school days. I remember one year I was a Raggedy Ann doll, along with 4 other identical Raggedy Ann Dolls (but I was the one in the middle, and so therefore the most important.) Raggedy Ann was the Uber popular doll that year in the Sears Catalogue. We sang a song and did a Raggedy dance that consisted of lurching back and forth from foot to foot while letting your arms swing about all flopsie like to the tempo of the song. I designed the movement in rehearsal and it stuck, my first stab at choreography. On the night, I got off on the wrong foot, literally. I must have started on the left while the others started on the right, meaning I lurched one way while they all lurched the other. I was concentrating so hard that I failed to notice, but the laughter of the audience spurred me on to lurch wider and wider, thinking that they were really enjoying our performance. (unlike poor JaySee Gee 's traumatic laughter comment on the blog post link above) My exuberant lurching made my shoulders bump the poor girls shoulders on either side and send them flying back off balance the other way. I was completely oblivious to anything but the positive response we were getting until we were off stage and they all told me off.
I can imagine the next week or so will have it's share of flashback joy as we get closer to the tree trimming holiday.