Monday, October 21, 2013
I Get Around: Beijing
Oh God oh God oh God not Pomp and Circumstance. I'm begging you, no Pomp and Circumstance. I played that goddamned execrable piece of merde eleventy-billion times, and on the trombone, to add insult to lip injury. Please please please please don't ever make me play Pomp and Circumstance ever again, ever, hear it ever again, read its title, or even see little jots and tittles that look vaguely like the sheet music for Pomp and Circumstance.
I can picture it now, all those pimply adolescents marchin' down the aisles between the battered metal folding chairs to get their blank High School diplomas because the real ones aren't printed yet and four of the kids didn't really graduate and have to go to summer school. They're all fumbling around with that blasted tassel appended to that shabby mortarboard they're renting -- every single one, while we have to go 'round again with the blattering Elgar ONE MORE TIME.
I want to drive to England and find Sir Edward Elgar and harm his shrubs and sneer at his garden gnomes and discomfit his dog and make cutting remarks about the back of his drapes. I want to crank call him from one of those red phone booths and put a hankie over the receiver and ask him if he's got Prince Albert in the can, but for all I know he knows Prince Albert and goes to the Hall with him to conduct Pomp and Circumstance for an audience of deaf people with no taste and he'd say, "Yes, he'll be out in a minute," and then I'd be flummoxed.
Well, at least it's not Ravel. I mean, that guy drinks paint and writes down the effect.