Rag Land

In this blog post, I think I will take a break from recounting the present and revisit the past. Why, I hear you ask, have you suddenly decided to dispense with now and leap to then? Why abandon us?! Why?!!! Well, blame Josh Pinchok.

For those of you who don't know, Josh was in Ensemble with me back in 97-98. He and his fiancee are taking a three month backpacking tour around Europe and stayed with Rachael and I on their way to the main land. Over a pint or two, Josh and I began to reminisce about some of the times of yesteryear. Then, like a bolt of lighting striking the still land on a cloudless day, the most hilarious incident ever to occur in the entire world came back to both of us. And now I will share it with you. For those of you who don't know this story, I invite you in for a moment of incredulity and hilarity. For those who do...sit back and remember...

It was late in the school year, a balmy April night, and Ensemble was onstage about to do the closing number in what many described as the best spring program ever. Cue a medley of Phantom of the Opera songs. There we are...men in tuxes, women in ball gowns. The lights are just right. The expectant hush fall over the crowd. On the clavinova, Heather Janney begins the first chords of the medley to end all medleys. But wait...these chords billowing from the pit. Could they be? Are they? Yes...they are not the right key! Oh fate...curse you!!!!

But wait, we are all talented singers. We can make it work in whatever key. The first part of the medley was the song "The Phantom of the Opera" and half the choir took it up the octave and half took it down. The resulting dichotomy led many in the audience to raise an eyebrow. Has something gone wrong, they muse, or is this perhaps a Glass-ian motif in which the dissonance is the integral part of the piece. Yes, some mused this thought...and then came Think of Me.

The women of Ensemble sang this bit alone and bless them...they gave it their all. Unfortunately, the sound issuing from the stage more closely resembled 400 cats in heat getting mauled by savage hyenas. Finally, mercifully, Mr. Crowe cuts us off and allows the piece to die the death it had been longing for.

All eyes look to the pit where our accompanist extraordiaire realizes that she has forgotten to depress the transpose button. As we hear the chord slowly rise to where it should be, the stress of the moment became too much for two of our members. Yea, they could hold it no more and between the herculean effort extended to stop the giggles and the utter concentration needed not to catch anyone else's eye, the ensuing battle claimed a victor...the bladder. Yes it's true.

Both girls peed themselves on stage.

Oh yes, it's true. Twas not even a tiny bit of urine but a full blown expulsion of pee. Beneath the beautiful ball gowns of each of the girls stood a puddle of fresh steaming urine. But, the show must go on so what do we do?? We do the number in the right key and spend the next 8-10 minutes dancing, moving, and all the while spreading the golden liquid around the stage...a veritable piss mopping, if you will. Thus the night ended with a very relieved choir, an appreciative audience, and a thoroughly soaked stage.

To this day, every time I think about those two ladies wetting themselves, I piss myself...in fact I just did it...ok that's the end of my post...I need new pants...