So, if you are a fairly normal,
functional member of society,
you probably have other things to do,
instead of writing flash mob serenades to tune of Call Me Maybe for swim team banquets.
That is just my thought.
I am completely not normal,
and am not contributing to the Greater Swim Team Whole in a way such as Bake sale,
Tent parenting -
You want to line up 25 or more 6 years old and under aged boy swimmers,
and keep them in line for 20 minutes until they go to the next place to stand in line?
If you do,
gold star for you,
I am totally, completely awful at that job)
That is waaaay too much pressure.
Like, you have to time the kids.
And there are usually 3 timers per lane so in case someone (you) is awfu,
l and cannot accurately time,
all is not lost because you are terrible).
I did just start volunteering for "runner,"
only because by that late in day/night of a swim meet I am groggy and need cardio,
you run all around with forms,
and someone takes them and does stuff with them,
so you are kind of like middle-person,
no one is winning or losing if you mess up.
But all in all,
I am terrible swim team parent.
Unable to perform the tasks necessary for this huge great thing for kids and all to happen.
Am not helpful.
But what I can do to contribute?
OOH, ooh, I know!!
Write and choreograph flash mob?
And get young kids to perform it at large banquet?
In which probably all of the rest of the room is like,
Good grief, What in the world?
That is a wonderful idea, Allison.
Totally do that.
Driving to and from long swim meets with my girls means lots of time in the car in which Call Me Maybe song is on radio,
as that is apparently the law now,
must be played every 10 minutes or world will end.
And if I hear something enough,
my brain starts messing with it, and no,
I am not secretly Weird Al,
do not have spiral perm,
am not a guy,
not on purpose writing faux lyrics to pop songs for any reason.
It just happens, is all.
You sit up all day and night in the hot and then drive,
and see what your brain does.
somehow I come up with a version of Call Me Maybe tailored to our swim team head coach,
and then sit up half the night making sure I am right on lyric/verse organization,
syllables and consonant endings
I am, and by the way, COOKIE MONSTER,
you may be all famous puppet with real writers and all,
but you did not match up right.
and also "bite" and "call" do NOT rhyme.
I did this for no valid purpose in any way,
but it had burrowed into my head,
and had to be done.
And so the next day,
I try to be all casual to the swim coordinator/very cool friend who has daughter V's age that is also awesome,
and to the perfect, lovely, darling Barbie coaches,
like, "Hey, how's it going, by the way,
I wrote a flash mob idea for the swim banquet. . . "
And I am sure they were thinking
"We need to call Matt and see what is going on here,
somehow Allison is actually melting from the heat"
but I am humored with this,
And as all Giant Snowballs do,
it rolls down hill,
until emails are sent out that will be printed out for my children's file for
"Why You Have To Pay For My Therapy," ,
called "Allison's Flash Mob Dance Rehearsal at 3 pm."
That totally happened,
we had rehearsal,
and let me say,
bunches of little girls,
(reluctant brothers hunkered down at other table pretending they are totally not there)
wanting to do your song and dance?
Turns me into LUNATIC more than even normal.
And we do our stuff,
incorporate the Harvard boys baseball YouTube thing because why not,
they are adorable and that middle guy,
really, my daughter E is right, those are very nice eyelashes and he has good coloring.
(This is what I am allowed to say to my daughter.)
I am making copies,
but similarly to other events in my life in which I cook up some sort of scheme that I think probably won't actually happen but DOES in fact happen -
I am at swim banquet,
with preppy, suntanned, lovely families in Lilly and Vineyard Vines all trying to have a nice wrap-up to swim team.
Plus there are a lot of trophies to be handed out,
and surely a slideshow and speeches.
And yet, here I am, harassing people for my flash mob.
Because I have something WRONG with me.
Fake phone calls are made to the head coach so I can smuggle in lyric sheets.
At one point, there are like 20 girls in the country club ladies' room with me rehearsing.
A FLASH MOB,
because I cannot control myself,
and my oldest daughter is looking at me like,
"Ug, MOOOOM, you are so embarrassing!"
My middle and youngest are kind of hanging in there,
and these other darling girls are all "Whee! Let's have a show!"
But I realize I cannot sing,
am fine doing the song and dance and nonsense but really I can't sing,
so must try to recruit other singers,
and this goes over like giant lead balloon of GO AWAY LADY.
I am at one point thinking,
How did I get here?
I turn into Talking Heads Guy:
This is not my beautiful house!
This is not my beautiful wife!
(Note: I am not wearing giant padded shoulder suit and twitching,
M the then 8 year old stylist and I consulted on my ensemble,
so I am not looking crazy,
just acting it).
And in case you are wondering?
When planning your flash mob in a Giant Public Place of Humiliation?
Not everybody who agrees to this is actually going to get up there with you.
Count on the little girls.
The rest of them will BAIL on you.
Unless you are married to them,
and they are forced to hold up cardboard cue card lyrics.
That guy will get up there.
Otherwise, trust me:
No matter what you do,
or act like insane woman who wants to do flash mob and why would you do that?
There will be a LONG moment,
in which you are in front of your friends,
their friends and peers,
and pretty much anyone else ever.
and YOU ARE ALL ALONE.
With Call Me Maybe background track playing.
And you wish for death.
Little girls are awesome!
They throw their properly placed napkins off of their Lilly Pulitzer dresses,
and rush up to flash mob with you!
Not all, and they know who they are)
coaches get up,
and mood improves from "send in the psych consult"
to "we are doing a song thing here"
and flash mob happens.
And it is hoped that the head coach that the song is written for enjoys it,
he seemed to-
Although what do you do when you are flash mobbed?
You kind of have to roll with it.
And if you think about it,
it is his fault,
because his name worked with the song so well and all)
And certainly the little girls who so gamely played along seemed to have fun,
and totally rocked on the highlight moment of "We're taking seconds, offf our RELAY"
And then my friends all lied to me and said it was not a total humiliation,
so at that point,
I'll take it.
Just let me grab a honking fat glass of wine and not be doing a flash mob,
And I joke that one of Matt's friends' face was totally,
"I am so glad my wife is not crazy like that,"
But Matt's friend is all,
"Yes, that is exactly what I was thinking, actually."
But it is done,
flash mob Flashed and Mobbed,
nobody lost an eye,
and what song will be on the radio next year?
Because I am totally not baking cookies or timing,
so I have to do something, right?