Crazy Chester
always wanted to be in the Boston Pops
even after he found out it wasn't a barbershop quartet
trouble is, he didn't have a musical bone in his body,
wouldn't know Tchaikovsky from Jerry lee
and his ability rested somewhere
between Alfalfa and Barney Fife
fortunately, though, he had an uncle
who knew a guy who owed a guy
who knew some guy in Alabama
so off to the audition he went
taking his off-tune banjo along
making Chester check his banjo at the door,
they led him to a room full of a guy
full of chin rubbing and screwed shut eyes
who said he knew Chester's talent at a glance
Chester looked down at the two sticks
covered in pool table felt
duct taped on the ends
and to say the least,
was a little disappointed
the republican looking guy
leaned back in his fat leather chair,
gave Chester an upside down
backhanded wave, and said,
"Go ahead, Boy, Play."
well, Chet slapped them two sticks together silently
as the goatee'd guru looked up to the ceiling,
hummed, and waved his arms before jumping up
and exclaiming, "Wonderful, Boy!
Simply magnificent."
it wasn't exactly what Chester had hoped for
and the Tuscaloosa Tiderollers
wasn't exactly the New York Philharmonic
but hey! ya gotta start somewhere, right?
on concert night, Chet inquired as to
where his seat was, and was led
to a metal folding chair, just behind the curtain
"But I can't even see the conductor from here?"
the clip board lady with loud heels and lips
pursed tight as her hair, replied,
"As good as you are, you don't need the conductor.
Just bang them sticks together every now and then."
the janitors watched from their broom crutches,
laughed at first, then debated
if they should tell poor Chester
it was all a joke and he
the donkey with a tail pinned
on his nose
but no one said anything
and the music played on
while Chester sat playing the mute sticks
in the shadows,
just down the nose of the symphony
~rick