"Excuse Me Sir, What is Your Name?"

That's what she asked, pointing in my direction in the auditorium filled with about 120 Hebrew students, all in level Bet and participating in their first "Shiron" or sing-along. We were singing famous Israeli songs and, like the good choir boy that I am, I had been singing out because 1) there are very few men in my level of Hebrew and 2) they are all weak-sauce singers. So I was representing the bunch and not seeing much improvement when the teacher, who had requested the men sing together, stopped playing and rolled her eyes at us.

"I asked for the 'men' to sing together, not 'man.' We've only got one doing it!" she said, all in Hebrew of course. Then she stepped away from the piano, walked to the edge of the stage and pointed out at me.

"Excuse me sir, what is your name?"

"Uh, Max."

"Well, you're going to have to represent the rest of them for this verse." She turned and walked back to the piano and started the song and, sure enough, my brothers in song bailed and it was just my voice that sang.

"Boi, yelda
Boi, akshav
Boi ve na-of kemo tzipurim
Boi ve nahav kemo yeladim."

I got some good applause and maybe a few catcalls. Orna, the songstress who put me on the spot, made a show of pointing to me when the song was over and luckily my beard covered most of the blush.

After the sing-along, I went and introduced myself and she wanted to know what I was doing with my voice now that I was in Jerusalem and I said that I wanted to find out about choir and performing arts groups in the city. She gave me the number of a music director of a school in town and said I should mention Orna when I called to ask about auditions and the like. So here's hoping I can get on the scene in J'lem with some singing. At least then I'll expect it.