How Hard Can It Be?

Craig Naude sent this:

Orchestra conductor

Jon Taylor wrote:

It only looks like that to the members of the audience who have already finished their boxes of wine.

I wrote:

Oh rubbish! How hard can it be? I have successfully air-conducted many operas, arias, concertos, minuets, fugues, and more in my car and in my bath.
Fugue, man. 😉

Pete Brauer wrote:

At school the PACT Symphony Orchestra came to play at an assembly. They gave a schpiel about how important the conductor was. They then called up a kid from the audience to have a go at conducting – and the orchestra played out of their socks to the kid randomly  waving his arms and the baton around as if it was a traditional weapon.

To show the difference when a real fundi conductor brought the best out of the orchestra, the conductor came back on – and of course the orchestra didn’t play a note in tune or in time.

I wrote:

I love that! That’s a hoot!
I bet the musicians had a ball doing that! Every formal orchestra ‘captive musician’ must secretly want to break loose and be a Jagger. Or at least a Vanessa Mae.

Vanessa Mae violin

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PACT – Performimg Arts Council of the Transvaal

City Boys

So Devan and Lungelo are staying over for the night. Devan was just visiting, but when his young blonde divorced Mom came to fetch him the trio convinced her it would be SO UNFAIR if he couldn’t also spend the night.

Him being rather pale he was noticeably pink as they’d been in the pool all day. Oops. Suntan lotion. Right. Tom & Lungelo not so much. Once Devan’s Ma had left I lined them up and issued each wif a stone – about plum-size.

What now, Dad?

“City slicker wimps need to learn a few basic skills” I drone while I line them up in front of an upended big black dustbin with a white HTH bucket on top. At a distance of four metres they all missed the target by about five metres.

“Seewaddimean?” says Dad. “Take turns and don’t stop till you’ve each hit the bucket five times.”

They loved it. They reckon they’re ready to hunt big game now.

.

As his classmates were here I called him Thomas, like they do.

‘Dad’ he says, ‘I’m Tommy’.

Suits me.

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The pic is Tommy, Lungelo and another pale mate Ryan. Another day, another place, but same year!

Floating Shelves

Defying gravity, the shelves hover . . or to paraphrase the famous Douglas Adams –
“They hang in the sky in much the same way that bricks don’t.”

No brackets, no trusses, no nails. No visible means of support. They’re just . . . THERE.

Oddly, they did not get rave reviews from various lesser carpenters. Envy, perhaps?

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