Funny Story Friday

Did you know that in sixth grade, long before I was Alyson Klein and was going through life as a slightly awkward Alyson Blackketter, I tried out for Star Search? Well I did! And I know what you're thinking, too. You're thinking, "Wow, Alyson! I didn't know that you could sing/dance/pole vault/ well enough to warrant a Star Search audition." Well the reason you didn't know it is because I can't sing, dance, or pole vault. As a matter of fact, I can't do much of anything that would warrant a Star Search audition (with the possible exception of my phenomenal ability to tie shoes using only my feet, which at that point was a yet-to-be-discovered talent.) But what I can do is find a friend who is just about as crazy as I am, and convince her to join me in stuffing our clothes full of pillows and performing a self-choreographed dance to Weird Al's classic hit "Fat".... in front of judges. (I mean, this is the sort of thing we would do for our moms all the time, but for judges of a nationally syndicated tv show? What were we thinking?)

So here's how it went down. I honestly don't remember whose idea the whole thing was, but at some point in sixth grade, Katie Bracken and I found ourselves with our names on a list to try out for Star Search. We had been working for weeks on our 'dance' in Katie's living room, and we thought we were pretty hot stuff. We really thought we were going to be the next Wilson Phillips because once Ed McMahon saw our dancing abilities, it wouldn't be long before he discovered our angelic voices as well.

The night before the big day, I guess I had completely forgotten about the big day because I spent the night at another friend's house. I awoke in the morning to a frantic call from my mom telling me that Katie Bracken had been calling the house all morning about needing a ride to some Star Search thing, but that my dad had broken his ankle the night before playing wally-ball (for the second time in two months) and couldn't give us a ride. Also, apparently I never told my mom about our big audition because she had no idea what was going on. Ah, the mind of a sixth grader!

Luckily, Katie contacted one of the event organizers who lived in Green River and she was willing to give us a ride to the auditorium in Rock Springs. Somehow we convinced our parents to let us take a ride with a complete stranger to an event that we had never told them about. I guess that they saw that our quest for stardom could not, would not be stopped.

When we got to the auditorium in Rock Springs, there was every category of performer present. There were tap dancers in sparkly outfits, cloggers in their big fluffy skirts, gymnasts in their tight leotards, and even the local accordion-playing prodigy (you GRHS alums know who I'm talking about). And there was Katie and I in our dad's shirts stuffed with pillows. At that moment, backstage with all the professionally-costumed kids, I kind of wished our fat suits had been a bit more sparkly. And that we'd maybe gone over the dance once or twice more. But no time for second thoughts because our name was being called!

Out on stage the lights seemed too bright and the stage was a whole lot bigger than Katie's living room. Our dance was going to take place in the 10 square feet right in the middle. Should we make our moves a little bigger and take up more of the stage?

Nervous glance to Katie to see if she's thinking the same thing. I took her nervous glance back as a 'yes' and decided to dance BIG.

The music starts up with that classic Michael Jackson "Bad" riff, and we start to dance.

As we spin, a nervous glance at Katie asks if we're supposed to shuffle the same way or opposite ways, only to see that she's creeping toward me. Apparently I danced too big and now she thinks we're too far apart. Ok. Dance smaller.

Kicks now or sunshine arms? Nervous glance at Katie. She's spinning. Oh yeah.

Wait, is now when we grab arms and twirl around? Nervous glance at Katie. Oh yeah, kicks now.

Box step.

We're ahead... wait for music to catch up with us. Nervous glance at Katie to see if we should dance until the music catches up with us. Just stand there? Ok.

Cartwheel time! Oh, Katie didn't do her cartwheel. Did she forget? Had we cut out the cartwheel?

Big finale..... gracefully whip the pillows out of our shirts and kneel down back to back while Weird Al asks "Whose fat?" Um my pillow isn't coming out.... ok got it! Toss it... and the song is over but I'll still kneel down anyway.

And we're done!!! Whew.

The kind lady who gave us a ride claps. The judges must be too stunned by our cleverness and amazing dance moves to do anything.

We gather our discarded pillows, shuffle off stage, and try to remain optimistic about meeting Ed McMahon some day.

When we told our mothers that we didn't make the cut, they told us that if they were the judges we would have won Star Search. And that we were just ahead of our time and were too funny and clever and talented for the regular Star Search crowd. I think our moms were probably right. An artist is never recognized in their own time, and when Katie Bracken and I die, people will visit our graves and say, "There lies a choreographing and lip syncing genius." Yeah, that's it.