Paolo Esperanza, bass-trombonist with the Simphonica Mayor de Uruguay,
in a misplaced moment of inspiration decided to make his own
contribution to the cannon shots fired as part of the orchestra's
performance of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at an outdoor children's
concert. In complete seriousness he placed a large, ignited firecracker,
which was equivalent in strength to a quarter stick of dynamite, into
his aluminum straight mute and then stuck the mute into the bell of his
quite new Yamaha in-line double-valve bass trombone.
Later, from his hospital bed he explained to a reporter through bandages
on his mouth, "I thought that the bell of my trombone would shield me
from the explosion and instead, would focus the energy of the blast
outward and away from me, propelling the mute high above the orchestra,
like a rocket." However, Paolo was not up on his propulsion physics nor
qualified to use high-powered artillery and in his haste to get the horn
up before the firecracker went off, he failed to raise the bell of the
horn high enough so as to give the mute enough arc to clear the orchestra.
What actually happened should serve as a lesson to us all during those
delirious moments of divine inspiration. First, because he failed to
sufficiently elevate the bell of his horn, the blast propelled the mute
between rows of players in the woodwind and viola sections of the
orchestra, missing the players and straight into the stomach of the
conductor, driving him off the podium and directly into the front row of
the audience. Fortunately, the audience were sitting in folding chairs
and thus they were protected from serious injury, for the chairs
collapsed under them passing the energy of the impact of the flying
conductor backwards into row of people sitting behind them, who in turn
were driven back into the people in the row behind and so on, like a row
of dominos. The sound of collapsing wooden chairs and grunts of people
falling on their behinds increased logarithmically, adding to the
overall sound of brass cannons and brass playing as constitutes the
closing measures of the Overture.
Meanwhile, all of this unplanned choreography not withstanding, back on
stage Paolo's Waterloo was still unfolding. According to Paolo, "Just as
I heard the sound of the blast, time seemed to stand still. Everything
moved in slow motion. Just before I felt searing pain to my mouth, I
could swear I heard a voice with a Austrian accent say "Fur every akshon
zer iz un eekvul un opposeet reakshon!" Well, this should come as no
surprise, for Paolo had set himself up for a textbook demonstration of
this fundamental law of physics. Having failed to plug the lead pipe of
his trombone, he allowed the energy of the blast to send a super heated
jet of gas backwards through the mouth pipe of the trombone which exited
the mouthpiece burning his lips and face.
The pyrotechnic ballet wasn't over yet. The force of the blast was so
great it split the bell of his shiny Yamaha right down the middle,
turning it inside out while at the same time propelling Paolo backwards
off the riser. And for the grand finale, as Paolo fell backwards he lost
his grip on the slide of the trombone allowing the pressure of the hot
gases coursing through the horn to propel the trombone's slide like a
double golden spear into the head of the 3rd clarinetist, knocking him
unconscious.
The moral of the story? Beware the next time you hear someone in the
trombone section yell out "Hey, everyone, watch this!"
