Klarinet Archive - Posting 000370.txt from 2004/05

From: "Lelia Loban" <lelialoban@-----.net>
Subj: [kl] Church of Baseball, OT (was: 'Being familiar with' is not 'truly understanding')
Date: Wed, 19 May 2004 20:13:48 -0400

Ormondtoby Montoya wrote,

>Perhaps the discussion should be: Which musical
>details actually have a 'right' and 'wrong' --- rather
>than being matters of individual preference via
>habituation?
>
>Humorous real-life example from this morning's news:
>
>Baseball fans (in New York City, I believe?) are in an
>uproar because the stadium concessionaire has replaced
>Cracker Jacks with Munch-A-Bunch (I may have the
>name wrong). The song "Take Me Out To The Ball
>Game", which is almost the national anthem of baseball
parks, says "Buy me some popcorn and Cracker Jacks",
>and therefore it is 'wrong' to replace Cracker Jacks at
>the hot dog stand.
>
>Clearly (?) this is a matter of violating tradition rather
>than a matter of "gastronomical truth'..... I think.

Gastronomical truth?! Hah! Baseball tradition is a truth far higher than
the merely gastonomical. Baseball tradition is Truth, Justice and the
American Way. No Cracker Jacks in a New York stadium? Blasphemy!
Sacrilege! That's like playing Mozart K622 on a trumpet. They'd better
watch out. Everybody knows what happened to the Red Sox when they sold
Babe Ruth: cursed forever. The Powers of Baseball will not be mocked.

Now, I suspect that dumping Cracker Jacks is a mere publicity stunt,
designed to foment outrage and yield publicity, followed by the highly
promoted return of the sainted snack; but the Church of Baseball is
watching, and the wrath of the Great Umpire shall descend if the Cracker
Jacks be truly banished. Pine tar shall mysteriously appear upon bats and
be detected thereupon; alleged knucklers shall be revealed as spitters; and
the balk rule shall be evoked and explained. Yea, verily, all this shall
come to pass, sayeth the Prophet of the Rule Book.

Although, sacrilege notwithstanding, I'll admit to having penned the
following, sung by fictitious young archaeologists digging up the ruins of
a fictitious ancient Mayan temple:

Take me out to the ball game,
At Palenque down by the sea.
Lop off the heads of the rival team
And kick 'em so high that they'll never be seen again!
Root, root, root for Palenque,
Lose and we'll cut out your heart,
For it's one, two, three strikes you're dead
In the Mayan park.

Nothing about Cracker Jacks in there (and parody is protected speech, so
don't come whinging to me about copyright). Come to think of it, however,
"Eldritch Tales" bought "The Pain-Dream of Snake Jaguar" and then never
published that issue or any other issue, and the editor quit answering his
mail: proving that any magazine that buys fiction from me is doomed.

Sigh. We don't do curses like they used to. Although the rotten little
kids in my neighborhood who think it's funny to grab the huge, harmless,
beautiful, musical and, alas, slow-moving 17-year cicadas and throw them
under the wheels of cars (crunch! splat!) can expect plagues of pimples and
lice any day now....
;-)

Lelia Loban
lelialoban@-----.net
Original music compositions (listen or print free of charge):
http://members.sibeliusmusic.com/LeliaLoban

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