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Pastimes : Hot Tubbers Anonymous -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Chris Forte who wrote (1140)6/5/1999 3:28:00 PM
From: out_of_the_loop  Respond to of 13724
 
Good news: STAY (ahs.com) certs came in the mail today.

Bad news: so did some bills.

:)



To: Chris Forte who wrote (1140)6/6/1999 1:00:00 AM
From: Madeleine Harrison  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 13724
 
Paolo Esperanza, bass-trombonist with the Simphonica Mayor de Uruguay, in
a misplaced moment of inspiration 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 placed a large, ignited firecracker, which was equivalent
in strength to a quarter stick of dynamite, into his aluminum straight
mute and then stuck the mute into the bell of his quite new Yamaha
in-linedouble-valve bass trombone.

Later, from his hospital bed he explained to a reporter through 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
outward and away from me, propelling the mute high above the orchestra,
like a rocket." However, Paolo was not up on his propulsion physics nor
qualified to use high-powered artillery and in his haste to get the horn
up before the firecracker went off, he failed to raise the bell of the
horn high enough so as 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 were sitting in folding chairs and thus they
were protected from serious injury, for the chairs collapsed under them
passing the energy of the impact of the flying conductor backwards into
the row of people witting behind them, who in turn were driven back into
the people in the row behind 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 cannons
and brass playing as constitutes the closing measures of the Overture.

Meanwhile, all of this unplanned choreography not withstanding, back on
stage Paolo's Waterloo was still unfolding. According to Paolo, "Just as
I heard the sound of the blast, time seemed to stand still. Everything
moved in slow motion. Just before I felt searing pain in my mouth, I
could swear I heard a voice with an Austrian accent say, "Fur every
akshon zer iz un eekvul un opposeet reakshon!" Well, this should come as
no surprise, for Paolo 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 mouth pipe of the trombone, which exited the mouthpiece, 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 Paolo
backwards off the riser. And for the grand finale, as Paolo fell
backwards he lost his grip on the slide of the trombone 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 3rd
clarinetist, knocking him unconscious and fracturing his skull.

I would think the moral of this story is, Beware the next time you hear
someone in the trombone section yell out, "Hey, y'all, watch this!"