Klarinet Archive - Posting 000585.txt from 2004/11

From: "Lelia Loban" <lelialoban@-----.net>
Subj: [kl] On a new note
Date: Sat, 20 Nov 2004 14:51:15 -0500


Tony Pay wrote,
>What we have to realise is that schoolchildren have
>no notion of personal property, or even of right
>and wrong, as we adults do. It's no use appealing
>to them. They need to have the relevant concepts
>*instilled* -- yes, and by force if necessary.
>
>In the band, as Bruce says, they must submit to the
>ethical guidance of the band director. He or she is
>-- or should be! -- the moral compass that informs
>their musical development.
>
>In sum, it's better to give these delinquents a short,
>sharp shock at the beginning, before real evil can take
>hold.

Yes, on second thought, I now realize I was wrong to suppose that certain
people on this list take too draconian an attitude toward disciplining the
little bastar-- um, darlings. Mea maxima culpa. In fact, some crimes are
so peculiar to the musical setting that they require a special Director's
Court, with decisions by summary justice, of course, since mere children
should have no say in such matters. In response to your Modest Proposal,
might I suggest the following schedule of punishments for the Director to
administer:

-----------

"The Disciplinarian"
(by Lelia Loban, with apologies to W. S. Gilbert)

To Be Sung by the Band Director
and a Chorus of Cringing Students:

A more alert Director never
Did in the band exist,
By principals, seconds
And third chairs I'm reckoned
A true perfectionist.
It is my musical obligation
To rid the children's band
Of evil doers
And trouble brewers
Whom I must reprimand.

My object all sublime
Whilst I am beating time --
To let the punishment fit the crime --
The punishment fit the crime;
To make each child obey
The orders I give each day
And punish any young renegade!
Oh, wicked young renegade!

The lazy, lousy clarinet squealer
With reed too weak and dry
Must stand on her toes
With the reed up her nose
For the time I specify.
If cursed with a drummer who can't keep the beat,
Though he flails like a drunken ape,
I deal with this boob --
Stuff his head up a tuba
And hogtie his hands with duct tape.

The bombastic young brasshole who blats and blasts
Must go to the hall of detention,
And balance the case
Of a long contrabass
On her head, while she stands at attention.
The flatulent flautist, whose hiss-and-miss notes
Shriek and wobble an octave too high,
Gets an instrument gag
Made of glue, hair and rag
Up his flute, 'til my wrath's mollified.

Chorus: His/her object all sublime, etc..

The show-off who noodles cadenzas and riffs
While classmates try to tune,
Shall have his mouth stuffed
With mold, slime and fluff
From the bocals of dirty bassoons.
When I hear a sousaphone squawk off pitch,
Or an oboe that quacks like a duck,
Or a sax that sounds raspy
Or French horn that's gaspy,
That student has run out of luck.

The child who plays on another kid's horn
Without express permission
Must lie down on the stair,
Smear cork grease in her hair,
And grovel and weep with contrition.
But, to cast the Director an insolent stare
Is delinquency of a grave nature,
That's punished with whacks
Of baton on bare backs,
'Til the sinners repent this behavior.

Chorus: His/her object all sublime, etc..

Lelia Loban
Cthulhu for President in 2008!
Why settle for the lesser evil?

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