Buster does Upstate New York

So, I don’t know if I told you that the reason hubby and I had a long weekend getaway was because Buster left on Thursday for the All-State Music Festival – 900 of the best 16 year-old singers and musicians in NY State converging on a small, rather boring city for four days.

Oh, the humanity!

He got there on Thursday and was immediately immersed in what sounds like wonderful, intensive musical work, rehearsing 8 pieces, some of them very lengthy and complex for 9 hours a day with a master conductor (a truly great fellow whose name I forget – isn’t that awful of me?) In between there was eating and sleeping, and meeting with school reps and salesmen from all sorts of music companies. Buster came away thinking maybe he’ll major in vocal performance instead of sax performance (sigh…good thing he’s double majoring in being President of the United States), and hot to start looking at schools.

But what did he do in between singing and eating? I have it on excellent authority that my rascal of a son spent quite a lot of time in the company of several other young men – one of them plucking a big bass in a jaunty jazz riff, and they rode the elevators between student floors, wearing sunglasses and fedoras and issuing the following invitation: “Ladies, come into our elevator of love and let us serenade you…(boom, boom, boomboom) from top to bottom…we’ll make you happy from your penthouse to your lobby, (boom, boom, boom-boom) and make your little hearts go (en quartet) ‘doo-wop, doo-wop, (boom, boom boom) doo-wop, whoa, In the stiiillll of the niiiighhhht….”

I understand one sly girl got on the elevator with them, pressed all the buttons and got off on the next floor. But supposedly the boys didn’t mind. They just did the same thing, floor after floor.

The security guard finally made them cut it out when they scared a non-musical hotel guest. It seems middle aged women do not feel particularly charmed, or safe, when an elevator opens up to group of shades-wearing 16 year olds singing the deathless phrase, “bomb-bubba-bomb-ba-bombabah-buddabangabanga- dingadongading Blue mooooooooon…you saw me standing aloooone…”

I think she should be happy that they didn’t take the “moon” idea to a different level altogether…but then it was cold last weekend.

I have also overheard some phone discussions of a Jake Blues impersonation, complete with kicking legs and cartwheel, and an Elwood with Harmonica on the second floor. But that must have been some other Buster they were talking about. Let us pray.