My daughter (age 6) informed me today that she has quit playing the recorder. It’s too much work. Her new instrument of choice is the Kazoo. How ironic that she’s following in her daddy’s ambitious footsteps.
In my freshman year of college, I organized the Wheaton College Kazoo Choir. It started as a joke… but my dorm-mates caught the spirit. I bought 40 kazoos, complete with extra reeds. The reeds were little, flat, cardboard rings as big as a dime. The middle of the ring had a thin, waxy membrane. When your kazoo malfunctions, it’s usually because of a ruptured membrane. The manufacturer was so impressed when I wrote him about our college kazoo choir, he sent me a whole box of extra reeds. Wow, huh?
We had our one and only impromptu concert during a Wheaton College basketball game. Probably 30 guys from my dorm. My suitemate, Doug, was the conductor. That’s because he showed up in a tux with tails… complete with fake medals and medallions… and a baton. That made him conductor. Doug made the grandest of entrances, to howls of delight and the gratitude of our fellow students.
At times both appropriate and inappropriate, we burst into 4 part kazoo harmony–with the occasional atonality and dissonance required to make music interesting. Our focus was our fellow floor-mate from Fischer Hall 3-E, basketball star Clyde G., who was totally cool, and our friend.
By all accounts, our kazoo choir was a monumental success. The basketball fans dug us, I’m sure. They respected us so much they began moving to other seats, giving us the respectfully wide berth our talents so richly deserved.
Good times. What a flood of memories!
Cost of a good kazoo: fifty cents.
Knowing that my daughter shares my lofty kazoo ambitions: Priceless.
Oh… I almost forgot. I’ve always thought I was a ukulele virtuoso. Until somebody sent me the link for this guy… After I watched this, I was humbled right back into my hovel of musical mediocrity, exactly where I belong.