Acting Skills

Me: "You have to play those high notes like you aren't afraid of them."
8th-grade girl: "That's going to take some serious acting skills."

8th-grade boy: "I'm tired."
Me: "Me, too.  I have a long teaching schedule every day except Friday."
8th-grade boy: "I have a long learning schedule..."
 
Me: "Do you need a scale sheet or do you have them all memorized?"
Sophomore Boy: "I know all of them. I just need to know what it is, and then I'll know it."
Me: ".......?"

Me: "That note isn't staccato and it needs vibrato."
8th-grade girl: "That was a crime of rhyme."

Heiroglyphics

Me: "What kind of note is it?"
7th-grade boy: "It's a thirty-tooth note."
Me: "Well, yes, sortof."

Me: "How was the pep rally?"
8th-grade girl: "I think they're pointless. I don't see why school needs that much pep."

11th-grade boy: "Don't worry, next week my music will look like hieroglyphics..."
Me: "Like you're going to practice and mark your part?"
11th-grade boy: "Yeah."
Me: "Good."

Me: "You don't strike me as a normal cheerleader."
8th-grade girl: "What's a normal cheerleader?"
Me: "Well, when I was in high school most of the cheerleaders were jerks."
8th-grade girl: "Oh, yeah, most of them are... no offense to them."

Me: "Quit whining. Don't be a whiner."
11th-grade boy: "I'm not a whiner... I only whine when things are hard."

Just Wing It

‎Me: "Did you bring any payment today?"  

Sophomore boy: "No, it's Harold's fault... you don't know about Harold... he's our car... there was clanking and parts fell off...." 

Me: "OK, bring it next week."

 

Me: "OK, Let's look at this etude.."

Senior boy: "So you just want me to wing it?"

Me: "If by wing it, you mean, sight-read it, then yes... wing it."

 

 8th-grade boy: "I'm tired..."

Me: "You're probably about to have a growth spurt, and you need a lot of energy to grow new cells.."

8th-grade boy: "Yeah, for like, bone cells... muscle cells.... bone marrow cells.... and dendrites.  Do you know what a dendrite is?"

Me: "Aren't those the branches that come off of nerve cells?"

8th-grade boy: "No, they're what you lose if you sniff Sharpies.... or dry-erase markers.... or if you hit your head too many times..."

Me: "Pack up your saxophone quickly so you get to your next class on time."

8th-grade boy: "It's just Spanish... we don't do anything in there anyway... except sit around and talk... ... ...in Spanish."

Sign in the practice room: "Please do not touch the harp stools or the harps."

7th-grade boy: "Makes you want to destroy them all so no one can use them, doesn't it?"

Me: "No."

Me: "Turn on your metronome."

7th-grade boy: "The actual metronome or the metaphorical one in my head?"