An Act of Choral Destruction

Well, so far, I’m not having a very good week, at least as far as being good in the sense that it’s almost winter break and I still can’t find much fun. For example, I play the guitar, which of course means that no matter what I do–no matter how many times I play Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” followed by Tarrega’s “Capricho Arabe” and ended by a piece by Paganini–I will still be asked to play “Classical Gas” followed by “Smoke on the Water.” And then the band people, knowing that nobody ever asked them to play such trash, will sneer. And then I will beat them with my guitar. Just because I play a wooden instrument doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell when its various parts are embedded in one’s skull. Just think of the splinters!

So, what’s my point, you ask? Well, today, I was asked to play a piece for my school’s “Winter Arts Fest”, which is an excuse by the teachers to stop reviewing for final examinations and do something pointless, like listen to the chorus. The only interesting thing that could ever come from the chorus is if, when they are dressed in their white robes, they are actually wearing nothing underneath, which, if one actually looks at who generally participates in a choir, is slightly less than alluring. In addition, I’m sure many religious groups are offended by now, and as soon as the principal of my school finds out, by reading this, she will laugh, because it is what all good American principals should do, considering one of their students can actually write coherently.

Anyway, the reason I’m trying to embarrass the choir, other than because chorus people are hateful stuck-up bastards (not really, chorus people! Please go out with me! Seriously! And keep your robes on, for the love of God!!), is because they kept me from playing guitar today, as well as maybe thirty other people. They went on today, and stayed on stage, and stayed on stage, and stayed on stage, wearing God-Knows-What and singing their fruity-ass songs that they get from movies like Anastasia. I swear. And they stayed on too late. And whenever they were done, somebody told the entire audience–which was asleep–that there was nothing else to go on, and so they could go back to their classes. Which they did, meaning that all the work I did today I did for nothing.

For today, the guitar player’s schedule was like this:

7:00-Wake up.

7:20-Realize that school has already started.

7:30-Get car started as fast as humanly possible while brushing teeth, brushing hair and shaving at the same time.

7:40-Arrive at school.

8:00-Practice until some time in the future.

2:20-Go home, realizing that you could have stayed asleep.

Well, that’s mostly the way my day went. The only thing I left out was, while I was shaving, brushing my hair and combing my teeth, I was also showering. Also, the people watching the chorus may have been merely resting their eyes. But anyway, you get the idea. We would have been better off watching C-Span.

Or, weirdly enough, playing stupid riffs of “Smoke on the Water.” I think it’s all part of their plan.


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