Batons

I am getting tired and it's still half seven in the morning. If I could burn all the clocks in the world, I would. If I could burn a lot of the watches in the world, I also would. But I could never bring myself to burn a Cartier, a Chanel. And if I were to try and even put my hands on the Mister's Corum, he'd throw the first tantrum of his life. His watches are his babies, do not disturb. Fine, I have my own. And no, we're not a time-obsessed couple, nobody can live with me if he's time obsessed. I take most things at leisure, it's a relaxed attitude. And yet even in music, timing is important. But just as poets have their licence, we do too. And I make sure I put it to good use. I wonder if a Cavalli metronome exists, I've never come across anything like that, but it should exist. Or perhaps musicians are so poor they could never afford something like that so why make it? Hmm, my guess is it would sell out in seconds. Musicians would rather not eat and but something like that. But it's all about time, and I hate time. Time to do this, that, and the other, and who says so? In most cases, probably somebody using a baton as a penis extension. If you ever wondered why most conductors conduct themselves in a wild, all over the place behaviour, well there is no musical reason as to why. It's just that they are getting high on the power trip a baton seems to inflict. Batons, made of plain, bland wood. And they're so coveted. I've never understood why. Probably because it signifies mastership, although sometimes not necessarily musicianship. And perhaps that is the reason why female conductors are so few. Because we do not need batons for power trips. We have the power all along. It's a woman's world out there, we just let the Misters think it's theirs.