Posted by Joe Baker on November 16, 2000 at 19:11:43:
In Reply to: Re: Re: Re: At Home Dent Removal???? posted by Actually . . . on November 16, 2000 at 18:37:05:
I believe it to be urban myth, but here's the story:
August, 1998, Montevideo, Uruguay
Paolo Esperanza, bass-trombonist with the Simphonica Mayor de
Uruguay, in a misplaced moment of inspiration decided to make
his own contribution to the cannon shots fired as part of the
orchestra's performance of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at an
outdoor children's concert. In complete seriousness he placed a
large, ignited firecracker, which was equivalent in strength to
a quarter stick of dynamite, into his aluminium straight mute
and then stuck the mute into the bell of his quite new Yamaha
in-line double-valve bass trombone.
Later, from his hospital bed he explained to a reporter through
bandages on his mouth, "I thought that the bell of my trombone
would shield me from the explosion and instead, would focus the
energy of the blast outwards and away from me, propelling the mute
high above the orchestra, like a rocket."
However, Paolo was not up on his propulsion physics nor qualified
to use high-powered artillery and in his haste to get the horn up
before the firecracker went off, he failed to raise the bell of the
horn high enough so as to give the mute enough arc to clear the
orchestra.
What actually happened should serve as a lesson to us all during
those delirious moments of divine inspiration. First, because he
failed to sufficiently elevate the bell of his horn, the blast
propelled the mute between rows of players in the woodwind and viola
sections of the orchestra, missing the players and straight into the
the stomach of the conductor, driving him off the podium and directly
into the front row of the audience.
Fortunately, the audience were sitting in folding chairs and thus
they were protected from serious injury, for the chairs collapsed
under them passing the energy of the impact of the flying conductor
backwards into row of people sitting behind them, who in turn were
driven back into the people in the row behind and so on, like a row
of dominos. The sound of collapsing wooden chairs and grunts of
people falling on their behinds increased logarithmically, adding
to the overall sound of brass cannons and brass playing as
constitutes the closing measures of the Overture.
Meanwhile, all of this unplanned choreography not withstanding,
back on stage Paolo's Waterloo was still unfolding. According to
Paolo, "Just as the I heard the sound of the blast, time seemed to
stand still. Everything moved in slow motion. Just before I felt
searing pain to my mouth, I could swear I heard a voice with a
Austrian accent say "Fur every akshon zer iz un eekvul un opposeet
reakshon!" Well, this should come as no surprise, for Paolo had
set himself up for a textbook demonstration of this fundamental
law of physics. Having failed to plug the lead pipe of his
trombone, he allowed the energy of the blast to send a super heated
jet of gas backwards through the mouth pipe of the trombone which
exited the mouthpiece burning his lips and face.
The pyrotechnic ballet wasn't over yet. The force of the blast was
so great it split the bell of his shiny Yamaha right down the middle,
turning it inside out while at the same time propelling Paolo
backwards off the riser. And for the grand finale, as Paolo fell
backwards he lost his grip on the slide of the trombone allowing the
pressure of the hot gases coursing through the horn to propel the
trombone's slide like a double golden spear into the head of the
3rd clarinettist, knocking him unconscious.
The morale of the story? Be prepared to duck, the next time you hear
someone in the low brass section yell out "Hey, everybody, watch this!"