Klarinet Archive - Posting 001084.txt from 1999/12

From: LeliaLoban@-----.com
Subj: [kl] Alternative Use For A Clarinet
Date: Fri, 31 Dec 1999 08:49:57 -0500

Michael in Australia wrote
>Then it was timidly suggested to me that, as our cat usually evacuated the
room when I picked up the clarinet to practise, perhaps I could do a number
on the possums. I felt faintly ridiculous, but positioned myself mid-roof
and let go with an ungodly racket of squeaks and squeals that would horrify
any self-respecting clarinet teacher. I couldn't see what happened, but I
was reliably informed by others outside the house, that within a short space
of time, three furry bodies emerged from under the roof-tiles, and leapt into
an overhanging tree to make good their escape across the road and into the
bush. They haven't been back. Yet.>

ROTFLMAO!!!

Gene Nibbelin wrote,
>>It's a good thing that you are not in the U.S. The Environmental
Protection Agency would probably have had you arrested, confiscated your
clarinets and all other musical instruments that you owned, convicted you of
harassing wildlife, fined you $10,000, sentenced you to 5 years in prison and
10 years probation, during which time you would have been prohibited from
playing any
musical instrument. And you would have been subject to class action lawsuits
from 15 or 20 environmental groups.----------------Just
kidding,----------------I hope.>>

My husband, who works for the Pesticides Division of the U. S. Environmental
Protection Agency, loves this story and applauds this creative, non-toxic
solution to the problem! We mean to try it with clarinet and fiddle next
time the local army of rats with fancy tails invades our attic. (What's the
right collective noun for squirrels? Swarm? Horde?) We evict them with a
Hav-A-Heart live trap every time they defeat the latest industrial-strength
metal grid meant to keep them out of the air vents. As we lug each one down
the hill to the neighborhood park, we've threatened them with my granny's
recipe for Brunswick Stew and we've threatened them with Shadow Cat. All
they do is snicker and say "Cya later!" They come right back, sit in the
maple tree and cuss me every time I walk in and out of my own house. Yes, I
think it's time for a fusilade from the clarinet. Thank you, Michael!

We've got possums, too, but since they live in the corner of the garden shed,
gobble up insects and do no harm, we leave them alone, usually. Once, a
late-night thunderstorm knocked over an empty garbage can. The lid fell off.
By morning, a big possum had holed up deep in the can. Couldn't get him to
come out the next morning. I thumped the can with my foot. He played
possum. I kicked the can harder. "Come on, now. Out!" I could see his rib
cage moving as he breathed. "OUT!" THUMP! Didn't budge. I didn't want to
reach in for him, because possums, despite their lumbering passivity, sport a
formidible set of sharp teeth in that long snout and sometimes they carry
rabies. (I figured he was playing dead, but what if he was sick?) Maybe I
should have fetched the clarinet! Finally I tipped the can gently and poured
him out into the flowerbed, where he miraculously revived and scuttled under
a rhododendron. For him, perhaps the bass sax cannon....
;-)

Lelia
(Still waiting for the Martian invasion to land on the White House lawn. Who
wrote this crummy Y2K script, anyhow? I want flying saucers!)

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