In junior high--now called middle school--I was a majorette in a small town in Ohio. O how I loved being a majorette--and I was good...well, for a majorette in a small town in Ohio. Our band director was a man we all adored. He could be tough, but his sense of humor poked and prodded us to greatness--OK, perhaps goodness.
At one school program, the band played in front of the stage while the majorettes were featured on stage. We performed our routine in unison, and then each, one-at-a-time, stepped front and center to execute our own specialty--in my case, twirling the baton on one finger and throwing it high in the air and catching it on return. I rarely ever missed catching it.
That night--auditorium filled with parents and townspeople--I walked to the center of the stage for my featured single. The baton moved through my legs and around my neck with great speed and accuracy. Then came the earmark of my performance. I twirled expertly in the necessary rhythm. The baton went into the air and at just the right second returned to my index finger. Beautifully executed! Perfectly completed! Applause reigned--as did the broken glass from the six stage lights my baton had taken out above me. With all my precision of movement--I had not anticipated the somewhat lower ceiling on the stage.
I finished with the other majorettes, then went running down to the locker room crying my eyes out. I sat on the bench with friends trying to console me. I'd have nothing to do with it. I'd done the most embarrassing thing in the world in front of thousands--OK, well maybe a couple of hundred! Then I felt an arm around me and a soft voice in my ear. It was the principle's daughter--a gorgeous and smart senior whom I thought was absolutely perfect! She said little but her arm allowed my heart to return to its normal cadence.
Yep--I lived through that and many more!
The embarrassment of a situation can,
once you are over it,
be the funniest time in your life.
--- Miranda Hart
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