Schubert's Unfinished Symphony
Artistic Consolation
Some tips for any of you that are in pursuit of a career in the "Blues"
How To Sing The Blues
DIY Country & Western Song Kit
Talentless
Accordions
Percussion
Conductors
Strings
A Company Chairman was given ticket for a performance of Schubert's Unfinished Symphony. Being unable to go, he passed the invitation to the Company's Work Study Consultant. The next morning, the Chairman asked him how he had enjoyed it and, instead of a few plausible observations, he was handed a memorandum which read as follows:
In the light of the above, one can only conclude that had Schubert given attention to these maters, he would probably have had time to finish his Symphony.
A Work Study of similar symphonies according to these suggestions would permit various concerts each evening. Each second concert hall in the town would thus be free for other purposes. The resulting energy saving would be an important secondary effect.
In a moment of inspiration, a certain unnamed trombonist decided to make his own contribution to the cannon shots fired as part of the orchestra's performance of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at an outdoor children's concert. In complete seriousness he place a large, ignited firecracker, equivalent in strength to a quarter-stick of dynamite, into his aluminium straight mute, and then stuck the mute into the bell of his quite new Yamaha in-line double valve bass trombone.
Later, from his hospital bed, he explained to a reporter through the bandages on his mouth, "I thought that the bell of my trombone would shield me from the explosion and instead, would focus the energy of the blast outwards and away from me, propelling the mute high above the orchestra, like a rocket."
However, this musician was not up on his propulsion physics, nor qualified to use high-powered artillery. In his haste to get the horn up before the firecracker went off, he failed to raise the bell high enough to give the mute enough arc to clear the orchestra.
What actually happened should serve as a lesson to us all during those delirious moments of divine inspiration. First, because he failed to sufficiently elevate the bell of his horn, the blast propelled the mute between rows of players in the woodwind and viola sections of the orchestra, missing the players, and straight into the stomach of the conductor, driving him off the podium and directly into the front row of the audience!
Fortunately, the audience was sitting in folding chairs and thus were protected from serious injury, for the chairs collapsed under them, passing the energy of the impact of the flying conductor backwards into the second row of people, who in turn were driven back into the next row, and so on, like a row of dominos. The sound of collapsing wooden chairs and grunts of people falling on their behinds increased logarithmically, adding to the overall sound of brass, percussion, and cannons, as constitutes the closing bars of the 1812 Overture.
Meanwhile, all of this unplanned choreography notwithstanding, back on stage the trombonist's Waterloo was still unfolding. According to him, "Just as I heard the sound of the blast, time seemed to stand still. Everything moved in slow motion. Just before I felt the searing pain in my mouth, I could swear I heard a voice with an Austrian accent saying, 'Fur every ackshon der iss an eekvul und opposeet reackshon!'" This should have come as no surprise, for he had set himself up as a textbook demonstration of this fundamental law of physics.
Having failed to plug the lead pipe of his trombone, he allowed the energy of the blast to send a superheated jet of gas backwards through the mouthpipe of the trombone, exiting the mouthpiece, and burning his lips and face.
The pyrotechnic ballet wasn't over yet. The force of the blast was so great it split the bell of his shiny Yamaha right down the middle, turning it inside out, while at the same time propelling the player backwards off the riser. For the grand finale, as the trombonist fell backward he lost his grip on the trombone slide, allowing the pressure of the hot gases coursing through the horn to propel the trombone's slide like a double golden spear into the head of the third clarinetist, knocking him unconscious.
HOW TO SING THE BLUES by Lame Mango Washington (attributed to Memphis Earlene Gray with help from Uncle Plunky, revisions by Little Blind Patti D. and Dr. Stevie Franklin)
The automated version of this song kit is here.
I met her (1)__________ (2) _____; I can still recall (3)_________
| 1. | 2. | 3. |
| on the highway | in September | that purple dress |
| in Sheboygan | at McDonald's | that little hat |
| outside Fresno | ridin' shotgun | that burlap bra |
| at a truck stop | wrestlin' gators | those training pants |
| on probation | all hunched over | the stolen goods |
| in a jail cell | poppin' uppers | that plastic nose |
| in a nightmare | sort of pregnant | the Stassin pin |
| incognito | with joggers | the neon sign |
| in the Stone Age | stoned on oatmeal | that creepy smile |
| in a treehouse | with Merv Griffin | the hearing aid |
| in a gay bar | dead all over | the boxer shorts |
she wore; She was (4)______ (5)_____,
| 4. | 5 |
| sobbin' at the toll booth | in the twilight |
| drinkin' Dr. Pepper | but I loved her |
| weighted down with Twinkies | by the off-ramp |
| breakin' out with acne | near Poughkeepsie |
| crawlin' through the prairie | with her cobra |
| smellin' kind of funny | when she shot me |
| crashin' through the guardrail | on her elbows |
| chewin' on a hangnail | with Led-Zeppelin |
| talkin' in Swahili | with Miss Piggy |
| drownin' in the quicksand | with a wetback |
| slurpin' up linguini | in her muu-muu |
and I knew (6)_______; (7)_______ I'd (8)______ forever;
| 6. | 7. | 8. |
| no guy would ever love her more | I promised her | stay with her |
| that she would be an easy score | I knew deep down | warp her mind |
| she'd bought her dentures in a store | She asked me if | swear off booze |
| that she would be a crashing bore | I told her shrink | change my sex |
| I'd never rate her more than "4" | The judge declared | punch her out |
| they'd hate her guts in Baltimore | My Pooh Bear said | live off her |
| it was a raven, nothing more | I shrieked in pain | have my rash |
| we really lost the last World War | The painters knew | stay a dwarf |
| I'd have to scrape her off the floor | A Klingon said | hate her dog |
| what strong deodorants were for | My hamster thought | pick my nose |
| that she was rotten to the core | The blood test showed | play "Go Fish" |
| that I would upchuck on the floor | Her rabbi said | salivate |
She said to me (9)____; But who'd have thought she'd (10)_____
| 9. | 10. |
| our love would never die | run off |
| there was no other guy | wind up |
| man wasn't meant to fly | boogie |
| that Nixon didn't lie | yodel |
| her basset hound was shy | sky dive |
| that Rolaids made her high | turn green |
| she'd have a swiss on rye | freak out |
| she loved my one blue eye | blast off |
| her brother's name was Hy | make it |
| she liked "Spy vs. Spy" | black out |
| that birthdays made her cry | bobsled |
| she couldn't stand my tie | grovel |
(11)___________; (12)_________ goodbye.
| 11. | 12. |
| with my best friend | You'd think at least that she'd have said |
| in my Edsel | I never had the chance to say |
| on a surfboard | She told her dumb friend Grace to say |
| on "The Gong Show" | I now can kiss my credit cards |
| with her dentist | I guess I was too smashed to say |
| on her "Workmate" | I watched her melt away and sobbed |
| with a robot | She fell beneath the wheels and cried |
| with no clothes on | She sent a hired thug to say |
| at her health club | She freaked out on the lawn and screamed |
| in her Maytag | I pushed her off the bridge and waved |
| with her guru | But that's the way that pygmies say |
| while in labor | She sealed me in the vault and smirked. |
Taken from the Amusements Pages of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra
Now try the automated version.
A persistent and wretched girl singer keeps haunting a bandleader to let her sit in again so he eventually relents.
Girl singer: Can we do "Body and Soul"?
Leader: OK, but let's do it this way. You'll sing the 9 and a half bar intro in C, then do the first 11 in E, second 10 in D. For the middle 6 we'll go to G and then you can sing it out in G flat with a 5 and a half bar tag in A.
Girl singer: I can't sing it like that!
Leader: WHY NOT? YOU DID LAST TIME!
Q: What is the difference between an accordion player and a terrorist?
A: Terrorists have sympathisers.
A fellow walking into a pub says: "Do you want to hear my latest accordion joke?" "Now, I play the accordion" says the bartender, a large strapping fellow."That gentleman at the end of the bar, the one who look like a logger, he plays the accordion. And that big gentleman playing darts over there, he plays the accordion. Do you still want to tell your joke?" "No, I don't feel like explaining it three times."
Q: Why are orchestra intermissions limited to 20 minutes?
A: So you don't have to retrain the drummers.
Someone asked Christy Moore what he thought the best way to play the bodhran was (he plays with his hand - no stick). He answered "Wit a penknife."
Q:Whats the difference between a conductor and a Radox foot bath.
A:One bucks up the feet and the other ...
Q: What do you have when a group of conductors are up to their necks in
wet concrete?
A: Not enough concrete.
Q: The difference between a violin and a viola?
A: A viola burns longer.
Q: Why was the piano invented?
A: So the musician would have a place to put his beer.
Q: How do you make a double bass sound in tune?
A: Chop it up and make it into a xylophone.