So I think I'm the last person on the planet (aside from perhaps my Mom, who owns a computer but refuses to turn it on) to see Star Wars Trumpet Solo on YouTube. But it made me laugh so hard that I had to write something about it, if only to immortalize this moment in my own little cyber journal so I can access it again later on days when I'm feeling down.
You see, when I watch this video, I'm not laughing AT her, I'm laughing WITH her. I too have spent my share of time in the public eye doing some sort of performance or another, truly believing deep in my heart that the best possible attire included silver fringe dangling from my knees and elbows. (There are days when I still believe this, just ask my sister).
Now my spangled appearances never included musical instruments; I'm not that talented. But hand me a baton lit on fire, or the story of an angst-filled girl trapped on a tropical island dancing for her life (angst-filled girls trapped in dungeons don't get to wear sequins and sparkles, so there's no way I'd ever take that part...) and you'd have quite a show. The first time my father saw one of these extravaganzas, he was trying so hard not to laugh afterwards that all he could say was, "I've never seen anything like it!"
Now that I think about it, maybe the reason God sent me to law school when he did (within six months, I'd lost my sparkle, and every item in my wardrobe was some shade of black, navy, or grey) wasn't because I was destined to be a lawyer. Maybe it was part of a larger "Spangle Protection Program," where those of us with a flare for shiny costumes were hidden away before our early moments could be captured forever to be posted on YouTube?
But I'm telling you, if I can figure out a way to incorporate baton twirling into my book tour, I am SO making some sparkly elbow-ties to complete the look!