When's it going to start?" my son asked, barely able to contain himself in his seat.

He and his third-grade class were in the front row of Salt Lake City's Capitol Theatre, one of 24 school groups -- from kindergarten to high school -- waiting to see what, for some, would be their first experience with ballet.

Every December, Ballet West performs "The Nutcracker," and every December, the troupe stages a few free matinee shows for school groups.

These school performances teach children about fine arts, something a well-rounded student needs -- and something that's often neglected in today's budget-strapped, teach-to-the-test, employment-oriented, No Child Left Behind-obsessed schools.

Of course, there's a less altruistic reason that Ballet West does it: They're hoping the kids will rush home and say, "Mom! Dad! We have to go see 'The Nutcracker!' Can you buy tickets?"

My son's class was one of the first to arrive -- a mixed blessing, since it meant front-row seats but also meant a half-hour of waiting for other classes to file into the theater. With a bit of strategic seat-swapping to break up rowdier groups of students, the time went by uneventfully.

When the house lights went down, the children screamed like they were at a Jonas Brothers concert.

The kids were treated to Act II of "The Nutcracker," a mild disappointment for my son and some of the other boys, who were looking forward to seeing the Nutcracker Prince duel with the Mouse King (the highlight of Act I). But the thrills of Clara's visit to the Land of the Sugar-Plum Fairies were worthwhile, too.

The students got to hear (through pre-recorded music -- the orchestra pit was empty on this day) all of Tchaikovsky's international dances. The girls gasped at the bare-chested male Arabian dancer. The boys were impressed by the boisterous Russians. Everybody laughed at the Chinese dancers.

If my son's eyes left the stage for the first half hour, or even blinked, I didn't notice.

Even the most recalcitrant kid in my son's class found something to entertain him, when the two-man Mother Buffoon rolled out on stage. When eight child dancers appeared from beneath Mother Buffoon's gigantic petticoats, he pointed to one kid and said, "Hey, that kid's on my football team!"

Leaving the theater and heading for the school bus, I asked my son what his favorite part of "The Nutcracker" was. "I don't know," he replied. "It was all great."

So begins what I hope is my son's long life as an arts connoisseur.

Sean P. Means writes the Culture Vulture in daily blog form at blogs.sltrib.com/vulture.