Remember, remember, remember, remember,
remember, remember, remember, rememberRemember my name. Fame!Fourteen years and counting. Twice a year, every year, I have attended Fame Theatre Company's clubs. And each of those performances ends with the performance company's theme song, Fame. Despite this, I still love that song. It is a song for my generation. But no matter how many times people sing at me about remembering my name, the fact is I will not. The fact is, I am seriously woeful at remembering names. If some of these talented youngsters go on to performing on the world stage - and I'm sure they will - and I say "I remember that name from his/her early days at Fame" it will be a lie. In fact some of those performers in those 14 years of Fame shows have turned up in my classes and I didn't remember them. At least it guarantees I can't play favourites. Remembering names is a skill, an awesome skill or a practiced art, or an innate genetic gift but whatever way it goes it has bypassed me. But then again so are singing and dancing and acting and those skills also passed me by but in all cases I admire those who have it. So I will never tire of watching talented youngsters up on stage giving it a go. I will never tire of the tuneless little things looking out in the audience for mum and dad. The names I might not remember. Those moments I can't forget.