Letter from an irate instrument

Kaleb Stevens, Features Editor

Everyone knows how it feels to be under-appreciated. The lineman who worked his butt off all game long but got no cheers for it. The quiet kid in the presentation group who put together the entire presentation by herself then watched as her partners took all of the credit. The Energizer Bunny, who keeps going and going long after you’ve forgotten connecting his negative to your remote’s spring and shutting him in for the rest of his natural life. We’ve all been there.


But do any of you know what it’s like to be the most under-appreciated instrument in Ames High’s illustrious band? I do. I’m the oboe, that instrument that you completely forgot to thank for all the times that you were bathed in a soothing cacophony of sounds provided by the instrumental ensemble which included MY musical stylings. How could a person be so ignorant? How could a person be so callous?


Completely ridiculous.


Apparently, the WEB did a bit of polling with members of the band and found out that I am the most under-appreciated instrument of the ENTIRE BAND. I have less popularity than the bassoon. I get less girls than the bass clarinet. Flutes make fun of me.


I just don’t get it. I put in my time like everyone else. I allow myself to be practiced on for hours and hours and hours. Do you think I like being in a human mouth? I don’t. It’s disgusting. I’m not even sure you people brush your teeth everyday. But I do it anyways! I keep on because I know that the good of the band is more important than the good of the oboe. I know that if I don’t do my part, the trumpets won’t shine and the clarinets won’t completely DOMINATE like they’ve been doing (big shoutout to the clarinets). The rest of the instruments appreciate me and value what I do, but you ignorant listeners couldn’t discern between my notes and the notes you kids used to write each other on Pictochat.


Absolutely disgusting.


I don’t know what else to say. I’m going to stay strong and play on because that’s all I know how to do, so you don’t have to worry about me running away and joining some traveling band or something. Just please, give me the respect I deserve. Thank you.



The Oboe