Spring means cleaning and concerts

A writer friend asked me where all our long writing days had gotten to. She has two sisters to "see about," and I have a large yard to tend. Also, the change of seasons means packing winter clothes and unpacking summer ones. Getting them washed, aired out and/or put back in storage (atticked, in my case).

Then , for those with relatives graduating or belonging to a musical group, there are those end-of-school events to plan for and attend. No graduates in my immediate family, but Kid Billy did appear in Henderson State University's choral concert on a recent Monday night. The venue was the First United Methodist Church of Arkadelphia, where, not surprisingly, the organist is a retired HSU professor and the choirmaster is a present voice teacher at the school.

At the appointed hour, the choir of 40 filed into the chancel of the church where I spent seven weeks as an employee. (I "fired myself," as a younger KB described it). KB wasn't on the back row; he wasn't on the middle row. There he was! In the front--he who had been in the choir only since the middle of the first semester.

He looked perect in his tux (another story). His hair--usually plastered down with body oil--was thick, curly and bouncy. Though he whad been diagnosed with ADHD as a first grader, as a freshman in college, he stood supremely still; didn't move a muscle except his hand to turn pages, his eyes to read the music and his mouth/body to expel the notes. My buttons popped.

Thursday, he came home for the summer and took up his previous habit of holing up in his room, watching something--or somethings--until the wee hours, then sleeping until noon the next day. Does that schedule ring a bell with anyout out there? Later, pl