One day in second grade, our teacher showed us her ocarina necklace. Since that day, I have wanted an ocarina. Several years ago, that dream came true. Then, at another garage sale, it came true again.
I’ve go a pendant with four finger holes on top, and two beneath. It’s decorated in a loud Southwestern pattern. I’ve got a turtle with four holes on top and none beneath. You play by blowing into the turtle’s butt. It makes you appreciate how easy we have it today and how our ocarinaing forebears had to capture turtles and blow into their cloacas. What I don’t have is the musical ability G-d gave the common horse. Can I learn to play the ocarina, or is that star forever unreachable? Can you teach me to play this instrument of the gods, or are you all miserable, good for nothing, scumsucking, pencil-necked, failures?
In closing, I said ocarina NOT macarena. Nor did I say macaroni. I can play a macaroni like nobody’s business.