Them: 100%. Me: 97%. I'm cool with that.

Wow, gasoline is $1.59 per gallon at the Racetrack station in front of K-mart on Jefferson Highway (U.S. 250) in Waynesboro. Got a new battery installed in the van today. And tonight I discover the cruise control no longer works. It figures. Stake conference this weekend. Leadership meetings this afternoon. Afterwards, instead of partaking of the spaghetti dinner, I decided to sit in the chapel and hold a nice padded pew seat for me, Dubby and Bopnopper. Had I eaten dinner, by the time I finished all the padded seats would be taken and we'd end up sitting in the hard metal folding chairs back in the gym. No way. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid. While I was waiting, the choir came in and began practicing. They sounded heavenly. Then, about fifteen seconds after they started, I remembered why I don't sing in a choir anymore. Two minutes later and I remembered why I'll *never* sing in a choir again as long as I live. The choir came in to the empty chapel and before the official practice started, some of them began singing the piece on their own. They sounded heavenly. The song was wonderful, their voices blending harmoniously, gorgeous musical... "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his voice; now is time we all rejoice; ..." I'm kinda paraphrasing here, but you get the idea. They got through most of it, and they sounded professional. Then the director arrived. They stopped singing, watched the director adjust the music stand and open her book. "Places, everyone. Let's start." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his ..." "No, no, no. Stop. It's 'hark'. H-A-R-K. There's an "h" in it, people, let's hear the H. Start over again." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his ...." "Nope, nope, stop. It's 'hark', with a K. I want to hear that K. Say it. kuh... kuh... it's Hark-kuh. Hark-kuh. Everybody got it? Okay, let's try again." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his ..." "Wait, we need more bass on the "Lord". Where are the basses? Okay, why did I have to see you? Why couldn't I hear you? You're in a choir. You're supposed to be heard. Sound off. Okay, again." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his voice; ..." "Hold it, hold it. Let's try it with some 'oooooummm' in the Lord. Like this: Luoooourd. Luooooourd, with some down and out to it. Try it again." Piano intro. One, two ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his ..." "No, no, no, no, NO! There's no breath after 'speaks'. Why is everyone breathing there. Mark your music. No breath. Okay, again." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his voice; ..." "Stop. Open your mouth on 'hear'. It's not Heeer. It's HEEaar. Get those mouths open. HEEEaar. Got it? Okay, again." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his voice..." "Nope, I still hear someone taking a breath after 'speaks'. There's a pause there, but don't breathe. Nobody breathes there. Okay? Got it, everyone? Okay." Piano intro. One, two, ready, sing: "Hark, the Lord speaks, hear his voice; now is the time..." "Stop, stop, stop. There's a break after 'voice'. I want to hear a moment of silence there..." And so it went. Of course, to be honest, the director was just doing her job. She was quite competent, very professional, and I can't argue a bit, not one bitty bit, about anything she was saying. She gave no direction that I thought was the least bit out of bounds. Everything she said was spot on, as the Brits say. She was polishing the choir into a professional-quality group. But it reminded me why I don't sing in a choir. I like to sing, I don't like to polish. And I'm perfectly happy to listen to a choir that is 97% (as this choir was when they started). But I realize that a choir director's job is to turn a 97% choir into a 100% choir. And the only way to do that is to polish, polish, polish. And that's why I won't be singing in a choir.