22. June 2006 · Comments Off on Booing · Categories: imported, Ramble

Someone landed here when doing a search on booing at concerts etiquette.


Is there ettiquette on booing? Should we boo on a certain pitch, or for a certain amount of time?

The only hard and fast rule I can think of is this: Never boo at the oboe or English horn players!

my old oboe …??

Well, no, please don’t. But it’s been reported that a man’s ashes were put into his clarinet (with the remaining ashes “in the lining of the clarinet case” whatever that means).


I honestly don’t care what someone does with this old body of mine once I’ve departed this earth. But please, sell the darn instruments! I can’t imagine just putting my oboes and English horn in the ground. I might not be in working order anymore, but I’m thinking they’ll still be okay.

Got it?

(If someone does insist on placing me in an oboe buy a Linton and use that. Please.)

In Other News…
I check at 10:00 to see if I have jury duty. My guess is that if I’ve made it this far into the week I’m not going in, but of course I won’t know for sure until I’ve made it through Friday.

Unfortunately while I didn’t have to go in yesterday I did have two of my four students cancel on me. One cancelled for a legitimate reason, the other did not. I wish students understood … I wish their parents understood! … that this is how I make my (not very good) living. The student who cancelled for a poor reason wasn’t charged as it was her first offense, but I’m starting to rethink that “first offense” rule. They should know better, as they’ve all read my student policies.

It’s too darn hot. Heat makes it difficult to want to do anything. So mostly I’m playing around with Delicious Library and “iSighting” (yes, I turned it into a verb) all of my books. Well, nearly all; this is making me clean out the books I know I don’t have any interest in. So far I’ve put together two bags of “charity books” and two bags of journals. (Unfortunately charities and libraries won’t take my journals. Sigh. Such a waste, but I know I’ll not read them again, so I guess they’ll go into the recycling next week.) The program is wonderful; all I have to do is scan the barcode and it enters most of the books. Some, either too old or too obscure, I manage to get in by entering the ISBN number myself. When the books are entered most even show up as little book icons with the actual front cover and all. (Some of my books are a little too obscure to get that treatment, though.) I did the family room books yesterday. (They are then going into bags until I get the oboe studio up and running.) Today it’s the bedroom bookshelves (one bookshelf of fiction, one of poetry). I’m not sure if I’ll attempt to tackle the ones in Dan’s office, but if I do I’ll only be scanning my books—I think all my Faulkner is in there and I’m not sure what else. Then I want to figure out how to organize them, and keep notes on them. It’s a cool program. But all this rambling … it is more than you need to know, eh?

What I really should do, of course, is practice. But in this heat. Ugh. I feel like I’d keel over and die.

And then someone would find me with my oboe at my side and suggest I should be buried with—if not in—it.

Oooh. But you could bury me with my oboe reeds. They are already dead anyway.