Essay #19 for Kalvos & Damian's New Music Bazaar

Welcome to the Music For Golf Show! Today, we're beaming our radio signal directly through the hole in the ozone layer, or ozonosphere, in the hopes of attracting an even larger extraterrestrial audience. Even if you're not covered with scales and reek of platnuminium, if you're nevertheless hungry for musical highjinks on the golf links, stay tuned. Golf was invented in 1447 by St. Jerome the Incontinent, whose feast day is today. No one is really sure just how or why Jerome became canonized, but that's all water over the bridge now. What's important is his golfish legacy, and also the fact that his annual feast, which traditionally took place in the morning, became known as the incontinental breakfast. We'll have more about music and golf later in the show which, if you're keeping score, is episode 19.

Today marks the 78th birthday of Buddy Bernard Rich, famous French drumster who invented the paradiddle, which is a kind of percussive slight of hand and not a sexual toy for dyslexics. To hear an example of a paradiddle, here is an excerpt from Rich's homage to his French roots, "Le Flambeau Oriange." (45-second MIDI drum rampage)

An excerpt from "Le Flambeau Oriange," by today's birthday boy, had he lived to participate in it and its attendant sheet cake, Bud Bernard Rich.

(metronome ticks) An even scarier anniversary today is that of the birth of Hans Geiger Counter, who invented the metronome, a scientific device which detects ionized radiation in musical compositions performed most often under tedious recital conditions. The nearer a piece got to its end, the faster the geigernome, as it was called, would tick, until ... (beep) the coda was detected and the audient could relax, knowing it would soon be done with this musical misery and be able to go get a cup of coffee.

Other anniversaries with ties to the wonderful world of new music are the births of Sir Nevil Mott, Nobel Prizewinner in physics for discovering where exactly all that racket went after leaving the stage of a performance of a Mahler symphony, and Fred, the first earl Roberts of Kandahar, who single-handedly wiped out all traces of the kylakaphone, the most nettlingly obnoxious wind instrument ever devised. In fact, the earl almost wiped out all traces of that instrument. A single kylakaphone still remains and, on an upcoming show, Kalvos & Damian will usher it into Studio Z and regale our listening audient with it, although regale is perhaps not the correct word here. Anyway, stay tune for details.

As always, this portion of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Sesquihour Expansive is brought to you in part by this portion of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Sesquihour Expansive, except for those parts not brought to you by this or any other part of this or any other show, inclusively, subject to auditory exclusivity pro mambo.

And now, look out Flemming Flindt, it's only the time becoming now for Kalvos.