widg‧et /ˈwɪdʒɪt/ [wij-it] -noun: Pointless ramblings from the New Forest. Obviously complete & utter Rubbish. Why must I contibute to all this endless talk about me? My self-indulgent knees, spilling themselves all over the internet. Obviously i am Jon and his hair, I AM HIM!

Monday, November 27, 2006

Death To The Dancing Flea

Current mood: moody

Bad news. According to yesterday's Observer the lowly ukulele is taking over from the stunning recorder as the musical instrument of choice (and torture) in British primary schools. I will fight them every step of the way, well I would if I could be arsed. I would tackle each & every child at the school gates, mug them for their ukulele and force them to blow on a recorder, if I could be sure I wouldn't get arrested & put on the sex offenders register.

Sod the special needs child that stood up in front of the whole class, playing 'Twinkle Twinkle Shitty Star'. School is about misery & pain, not achievement. The strange, squealy noises of the badly played recorder, or even violin, are a perfect soundtrack to the tears of childhood frustration & fear. If this ukulele situation is allowed to escalate out of control there will be no more children impaling themselves on the sharp end of their plastic flutes in despair. And that, I think you'll agree, would be a tragedy. For shame.

If I had to suffer playing in Poulner Wind Group (no sniggering at the back) then all children must succumb to the same fate. Though I did get to dress in a snazzy green suit and tootle on my lovely, wooden treble recorder at the Schools Prom in the Royal Albert Hall. Culminating in the usual feel good, jingoistic, flag waving Pomp & Circumstance finale. Land of mope & whorey forever!

Currently listening: Someone To Drive You Home by The Long Blondes


Blogger AlphIANo said...

Are you saying you were some kind of odd precurser to the Green Clarinet man?

10:39 pm


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