The rhudedendron

All flowers have their seasons, right? Well, Angelborough seems to be over-run with flowers that create rudeness.

The flowers themselves are tiny-tiny, although they have a pungent odor. You wouldn’t think any one of them is a big problem. But ignore one or say, “Oh, that one tiny flower doesn’t matter,” and the next time you look there are five, and then ten, and then a thousand, and you wonder how it got to that state.

Angelborough Middle School had its band and chorus concert, and the rude-e-dendrons were in full bloom everywhere. Oh, it started okay enough, with only the parents who allowed their offspring to race between two sets of seats (one with Mom and Dad, one with other relatives) through the dark with their light-up sneakers. No biggie.

Then the performers,  who dressed kinda-sorta to the performance dress code, the girls wearing shorts even though they shouldn’t be allowed to and given a pass because the shorts were longer than the black skirts some of the others wore (which were engulfed by the mandatory white shirts). Half the performers wearing flip-flops. The girls giggling on stage and whispering to each other during their own performance. The performers who, once their  songs finished, either gathered their families and left or else stood in the back of the auditorium to chat with their friends.

When did this happen? I hate to be one of those “in my day” little old ladies, but  in my day, the  band  teacher sat us down and said, quite solemnly, that while the other groups performed we were to maintain total silence. Because it was polite and because they would be silent for our performance too. And also because (and Mr. Mendelssohn was a smart cookie, yes he was) if we talked during the performance, we could kiss our grade goodbye. You have never witnessed a quieter bunch of fifth graders.

During intermission, some luminary left the house lights down, so there was no clear method of indicating that intermission had ended. Flashing the house lights did not stop the roar of conversation. Neither could the band director, who asked everyone to please quiet down so the next group could perform.

These were the adults talking, by the way. Not the kids, most of whom were racing around the school hallway.

This same thing happened back in Angeltown, where the parents never shut up during anyone’s performance except their own kid’s, and where the chorus kids were yelling across the gymnasium to one another while the band groups were playing.

Rhudedendrons are in full bloom, and Lawn Doctor can’t spray for them.


  1. cricketB

    Another reason to love my city. Every kid gets to see a professional show at the big centre twice a year, free. It includes age-appropriate instructions about how to behave, including please send a thank-you letter to the company that pays for it. By grade 2, they all know how to line up and walk quietly, and to be quiet when the lights go down. Even the really active kids get it.

    Meanwhile, the dance recital this weekend is three hours of pop music at ear-damaging levels. (Sort’a limits the conversation.) A good third of it is watching the competition kids. Each class (and the competition kids take several) gets a number and each competition group and soloist has one — at each of the three performances! Meanwhile, my kid is on stage for four minutes. Yep, $100 costume, $40 in tickets and an entire afternoon for four minutes. At least she’s only in one show — the other acro classes are in the other shows. No, we won’t walk out when she’s done, but only two adults are going this year.

    Two hours of music at a reasonable volume is one thing, but the dance schools need to respect the recreational kids and families at recital time.

    (End hijack and rant.)

  2. Kaci

    Hehe. Yeah, my teachers would have beaten us senseless if we so much as pronounced a syllable.

  3. Jason Block

    This is a symptom of years of many things…

    a) the “self-esteem” movement where ALL behavior is accepted as normal and a form of “self-expression;

    b) the removal of shame from this society;

    and c) if some school official had the strength to “cancel” the show for rudeness of behavior, there would be lawsuits. “NOT MY KID” they would scream. Why does my kid have to be punished for the behavior of others?

    I am sorry, but I have been to the gardens of the rhudadendron. They need to be poisoned out.