the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Confessions of a first chair

Whenever I see a musical instrument that's all white, or white with black accents, I automatically name that instrument "Casper." My first electric guitar, so cheap it didn't even have a brand name, was a Casper. It's not that I'm unduly fond of the friendly ghost, no offense to the little ethereal motherfucker. No, this all stems from my short but memorable stint playing string bass in junior high school. The school had a white fiberglass bass which I was allowed to keep at home for extended periods of time - that bass was nicknamed Casper (actually, that applied to any white fiberglass bass in the school system; Squirl used to bring home the high school's Casper when she was in the orchestra, too). The sound wasn't like what you could get out of the wood basses, but it sure was sharp to behold.

Thinking about Casper got me to wondering what my life would've been like if I hadn't been such a lazy, rebellious little turd, if I hadn't dropped out of orchestra after seventh grade, if I'd accepted that invitation to play bass for the West Shore Youth Symphony. Chances are I'd have gone on to be a music major in college, and I'd be making my living as a classical musician now. I don't know what the pay scale is for that, but it sounds like a pretty fulfilling line of work. I wouldn't even be bitchy about the clothes now like I was in junior high.

Of course, my continued employment would be completely dependent upon my ability to keep secret the fact that I'd be back there behind my bass, making up dirty lyrics to Mozart and drawing penis pictures on my sheet music. Also, busting out the rockabilly moves with the string bass would probably be ill advised, although I think some strategic spinnin' and slappin' would give a real boost to any performance of the 1812 Overture.

Maybe I'll just start my own orchestra. We'll include all the standard instruments, of course, but we'll also throw in some of our own embellishments, like kazoo and electric accordion. All the musicians will be wearing wifebeaters and boxer shorts (and bedroom slippers; this is a classy operation). I would really like to have strippers onstage, too, but that might be beyond the initial budget...unless the strippers are also the accordion players. Oh, but that could be quite pinchy; the details will need to be ironed out on that one.

The instruments would all be painted with fluorescent colors so the concerts could be held under black light. It'd be just like glow bowling, but with classical music and no balls. The conductor would use a glow stick, and we'd give everyone in the audience a hit of Ecstasy; that way, they'd love us no matter how much we suck. Hell, everybody in the orchestra would probably get laid after the show at that rate!

Challenges for position within the orchestra would henceforth be decided by the outcome of sword fights using French bows (it's advisable to borrow your weapons from the cellists). Eye gouging is not only permissible, it's recommended. Do you really want first chair or don't you?

If you believe you would be interested in becoming part of the Cotillion Symphony, applications can be obtained by buying me a nice big plate of crab legs and some expensive wine. Oral sex is never a bad strategy, either.

13 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Blogger Susie said...

I want to be First Kazoo. I've just completed the oral sex part of the audition. Oh. You meant with you? You didn't specify...

10:35 AM, June 14, 2007  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

Electric washboards are nice. (except when used on shitty follow-up albums that cause GREAT distrust in a band)

11:05 AM, June 14, 2007  
Blogger Curly Glamour Girlie said...

Oooh! That sounds awesome. I've been a cellist in a "Pops" orchestra forever now and if I have to play one more "Phantom of the Opera" medly I'm going to barf. Thank god I'm getting more theatrical gigs lately, which are more entertaining to say the least. (And there's always leeway for snacking and reading dirty magazines in a pit)

I can also play the tambourine and crotales.

3:38 PM, June 14, 2007  
Blogger Squirl said...

I remember Casper. I didn't remember that you quit after 7th grade.

Because of a conversation I was having with Ichabod, I thought you said flatulent paint, not fluorescent paint. Well, what can I say???

7:40 PM, June 14, 2007  
Blogger I'm not here. said...

Needs more cowbell.
That is all.

1:05 AM, June 15, 2007  
Blogger Lori Denine and her cat said...

I believe my flute would look kickass under black lights...

Kick ass I tell ya...

2:19 AM, June 15, 2007  
Blogger here today, gone tomorrow said...

Due to my vow of monogamy to the Cap'n, I must reluctantly turn down this amazing offer. *mopes, kicks dirt, scowls at the Cap'n, and walks away with harmonica dangling"

7:01 AM, June 15, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ahhh, and imagine the stories that you could come up with... musical instruments are not made for just playing music, you know?!

9:07 AM, June 15, 2007  
Blogger limpy99 said...

Doesn't The Blue Man Group already operate like that?

12:04 PM, June 15, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sometimes it's mind-boggling to think how radically different our lives might have been if we had made a different decision in the 7th grade.

On the other hand... my school orchestra, to the detriment of the non-musically-gifted-but-highly-motivated, did not offer Kazoo. A shame, that, because I think I might have become highly skilled with that instrument. Although I am not as sure I would have passed your audition.

12:52 PM, June 15, 2007  
Blogger eclectic said...

Um... my oboe is just boring black. But I really like it. Maybe I could make a few reeds with flourescent threads (or flatulent threads for Squirl). Also, I'll buy crab legs and wine since Susie already stole the oral sex.

4:48 PM, June 15, 2007  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Having dabbled with violin, recorders, flute, piano and guitar when younger, I can only offer the services of my voice. I found it the only instument that I couldn't forget to bring with me and could practise pretty much anywhere - although the librarian shushed me a couple of times...

3:32 PM, June 17, 2007  
Blogger Flying Mermaid said...

The closest I got to bass playing was a rare stint as a drunken washtub player in a Bluegrass band, the summer of 1973?

I'd be glad to add that to your mix, and you KNOW I wouldn't be opposed to playing in the nude.

But if the band were also given Ecstasy, I can assure you I'd rub on everything in sight. You might not mind that, especially since I wouldn't goo up the string, since I there's no juice left in this menopausal pussy.

3:47 PM, June 17, 2007  

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