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" I N E V E R P R E T E N D E D
T O H A V E A G R E A T
V O I C E. A L L I N E E D
I S A G O O D S O N G "
Willie Nelson
" I W O U L D R A T H E R
N O T S I N G T H A N
S I N G Q U I E T "
Janis Joplin
" E V E R Y P E R S O N
S H O U L D P O S S E S S
L I C E N S E T O S I N G
I N H I S O R H E R
T R U E V O I C E "
Joyce
Maynard
" E V E N I F Y O U
C A N N O T S I N G W E L L,
S I N G "
Rebbe
Nachman
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This
is the third in a series of consecutive essays about a character I developed
named Maximilian. He is a very short, 15 year old boy who is able to
use magical thinking to make things better.
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Maximilian was not
musical. His voice, according to Miss Wish, the music teacher, had turned
her hair gray.
"He is the reason my hair is this colour," she said of Maximilian after
asking him to sing the scales before the class in his monotone voice.
He had failed the entrance test to the choir. Maximilian did not want
to be in the choir anyway. He had wanted to play the booming bass drum
in the marching band but he was too short.
And he knew that Miss Wish had gray hair long before he was born. She
was the oldest teacher in school. In fact, she was older than the school.
Miss Wish liked Mozart because she taught him, thought Maximilian.
"You will sit in the front row with the other students who cannot carry
a tune," she said scornfully.
Maximilian's friend Horse sat right next to him. His chronic post-nasal
drip made his voice too hoarse to be in the choir.
"I don't know why I can't be in the choir. I sound just like Rod Stewart,"
Horse said.
"Right," Maximilian replied.
"The better singers will sit in the back rows and project their voices
so that you might benefit from their talents," Miss Wish announced to
the front row.
"And sing very softly so that you will be able to hear them. Better
yet, just move your lips," she added.
"My hearing is well developed because I am very near-sighted," Horse
declared to Miss Wish.
Miss Wish stared down her nose at him.
Self-esteem was not part of her mission as a teacher. Neither was making
music enjoyable for her students, particularly those who could not carry
a tune.
"Miss Wish used to teach music in army boot camp," Horse had commented.
Right now she looked like she was going to make him do push-ups.
Meanwhile, Suzy, a very popular and smart girl who usually got 99% on
tests, was sitting in the very back row.
"She has a voice like an angel," Miss Wish said of her favourite student.
"Everyone can benefit from listening to her."
Suzy smiled brightly even though she did not really want to project
her angel voice, knowing where it would eventually land. She was not
fond of very short boys like Maximilian or boys with chronic post-nasal
drip, particularly when they could not carry a tune.
Maximilian was able to do magical thinking. He could make people say
what he was thinking in order to make things better. He had helped the
basketball team start winning games again. He had helped Horse stop
cheating on tests.
But he could not magically make anyone sing better. Not him, not Horse
and not even Miss Wish, for that matter. She had an old voice, a little
raspy and more like a man than a woman.
"She sounds just like Bob Dylan," Horse observed, when she lead the
class everyday in singing Danny Boy, her favourite Irish ballad.
Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy, I hate you so, Maximilian started to think
as he moved his lips to the song. He stopped just in time. It would
not make things better in music class.
Miss Wish had a name that begged to be abused by the students, particularly
those in the front row.
"Miss Witch," they said. "She has a pointed hat and lives in a small
house deep in the forest. She eats students who cannot carry a tune."
What could I do to make things better in music class, thought Maximilian.
Horse liked listening to his Dad's extensive collection of music. His
favourite singers, in addition to Rod Stewart and Bob Dylan, were Kim
Carnes, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Willie Nelson and Tom Waits.
"They all have very interesting voices," Horse explained.
"They do not sound like angels," Maximilian replied. "They would never
get into the choir."
"They would all have to sit in the front row," Horse observed.
"And just move their lips," Maximilian added.
He started thinking.
"I have noticed that you all have very interesting voices," Miss Wish
said to the front row.
"You should sing louder. I am sure that everyone in the back rows would
benefit from hearing your interesting voices," she added.
"Yes, sing Danny Boy. We want to hear you sing Danny Boy," they all
said to the front row.
"Oh, I love Danny Boy so," said Miss Wish. "Sing it for us, please,
please."
"Three cheers for The Front Row," someone said with emphasis, after
they finished off Danny Boy. Everyone in the back rows cheered and hooted.
"Hoot, hoot, hoot," went Miss Wish.
"I just love how you were able to sing Danny Boy in so many different
keys at once," she added. "You are so interesting, so creative!"
"Oh, I wish I could sit in The Front Row," Suzie said. "But I do not
have an interesting voice. It just sounds like an angel," she complained.
Everyone in The Front Row smiled. Especially Maximilian. He had made
things better in music class.

©
C O P Y R I G H T 2 0 0 5. Gary Holdgrafer ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED.
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