It gets worse. Because I had the obligatory floppy fringe and gappy teeth of the traditional choirboy, I was co-opted and tucked away in the far reaches of the school choir and told to mime there. No hiding away in the corner. It was not so much counting in time, but adding up the numbers. And this stigma has stayed with me for nigh on 40 years.
So, it was with some trepidation that I signed up for, and went along to, a weekend's "can't sing, will sing" course.The first thing I discovered was that half the people there shared my childhood experience. Oh teachers, if you but realised what damage you do (or did - I'm sure today's crop are better). Some had carried this cross for a sight longer than I had.
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