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Stage jokes, from orchestra pits to stage crew
Newgroups: rec.arts.theatre.stagecraft
I periodically post my canonical collection of theatre-related jokes.
Having spent more than a little time in "the pit", there are quite a few
orchestra-related jokes, but the other aspects of cast and crew are
represented, as well. Additions gladly welcomed (email to
[email protected].com)
// LIGHTBULBS //---------------------------------------------------------------
Q: How many sopranos does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: One. She holds it and the universe revolves around her.
-- or --
Q: How many sopranos does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Five. One to change it and four to pull the chair out
from under her.
Q: How many altos does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Five. One to change it and four to whine "It's too high!"
Q: How many stage managers does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. That's a job for the head electrician.
Q: How many head electricians does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: "LAMP", idiot! It's called a "lamp"!
Q: How many stage hands does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Two, if they can find a lamp big enough and figure out
how to get inside it.
Q: How many stage hands does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. They know they'll be killed if they mess with the lights.
Q: How many lighting techs does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. If it was working once, they know better than to mess with it.
Q: How many choreographers does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: "Ah-Five, Six, Seven, Eight..."
Q: How many actors does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. They can never find their light.
Q: How many bass players does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. They let the keyboard player do it with his left hand.
Q: How many Deadheads does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: 12,001. One to screw it in, 2000 to record the event and
take pictures of it, and 10,000 to follow it around until
it burns out.
// MUSICIANS/ORCHESTRA //------------------------------------------------------
Q: How do you make a [musician-type] stop playing?
A: Put sheet music in front of them.
Q: What do you call a musician without a girlfriend?
A: Homeless.
Q: What do you call someone who hangs around with musicians?
A: A drummer.
Q: How can you tell that there's a drummer at your front door?
A: The knocking keeps speeding up.
Q: How can you tell that there's a vocalist at your front door?
A: She doesn't know when to come in.
Q: What's the definition of a gentleman?
A: Someone who knows how to play the bagpipes, but doesn't.
Q: How do you get two flute players to play the same note?
A: You shoot one of them.
Q: What is the definition of a minor second?
A: Two oboes playing in unison.
Q: What is the difference between a saxophone and a lawn mower?
A: Vibrato.
Q: What do you call 10,000 soprano saxophonists at the bottom
of a lake?
A: A good start.
Q: How do you make a trombone really sound like a French horn?
A: Stick your hand in the bell and miss at least half of the notes.
Q: How do you make a French horn really sound like a trombone?
A: Take your hand out of the bell and play out of tune.
Q: How do you make a trombone player's car more aerodynamic?
A: Take the Domino's Pizza delivery sign off the roof.
Q: What is the definition of an optimist?
A: An accordian player with a pager.
Q: What's the difference between a dead skunk in the road and
a dead conductor in the road?
A: There are usually skid marks in front of the skunk.
Q: You are driving down the road and come across a conductor and
a violist. You cannot avoid hitting one of them. Which should
it be?
A: Hit the violist first, then go back for the conductor. After all,
business before pleasure.
Q: What is the difference between a bull and an orchestra?
A: The bull has the horns in the front and the asshole in the back.
Q: What is the difference between a dead snake in the road and
a dead trumpet player in the road?
A: The snake was on its way to a gig.
= = = = = = = =
Einstein, now deceased, is wandering around heaven, being
generally bored and lamenting that he has no one with whom
to pass the time of day. He meets a man and, after introductions,
asks the fellow politely what his IQ is. "378," the man replies.
"Wonderful!" exclaims Einstein. "Let's chat about quantum mechanics
and relativistic mass." They have a lively intellectual conversation.
A bit later, Einstein meets a second gent, and asks him for his IQ.
"190," is the reply. "Great," says Einstein. They proceed to talk
about Newton's Laws and the Pythagorean Theorem. Still later,
Einstein meets a third guy, and asks him for his IQ. "52," the
fellow answers. "Really?" says Einstein. "What brand of sticks
do you like to use?"
= = = = = = = =
A scientific expedition disembarks from its plane at the final
outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. They
immediately notice the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As
they venture further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or
night, for weeks. The lead scientist asks one of the natives about
this, and the native's only reply is "Drums good. Drums never stop.
Very BAD if drums stop." The drumming continues, night and day,
until one night, six weeks into the trip, when the jungle is
suddenly silent. Immediately the natives run screaming from their
huts, covering their ears and jabbering in panic. The scientists
grab one boy and demand "What is it? The drums have stopped!"
The terror-stricken youth replies "Yes! Drums stop! VERY BAD!"
The scientists ask "Why? Why? What will happen?" Wild-eyed,
the boy responds "....BASS SOLO!!!"
= = = = = = = =
A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's
Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a
detailed, life-size bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is
very realistic, and very unique. He picks it up and asks the
shop owner what it costs.
"Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shopkeeper, "and one
thousand dollars more for the story behind it."
"You can keep the story, old man," replies the shopper, "but I'll
take the rat."
The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the shop with the
bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of
the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into
step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins
to walk a little faster, but every time he passes a sewer drain
or dumpster, more rats come out and follow him. By the time he
has walked two blocks, at least one hundred rats are at his heels,
and people are beginning to point and shout. He walks even
faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm
from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars. Rats
by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront
at the bottom of the hill, he breaks into a panicky full-tilt run
for the bay.
No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously.
By the time he approaches the pier, a trail of rats twelve
city blocks' long is behind him. Making one mighty leap, he jumps
onto a light post, grasping it with one arm as he heaves the
bronze rat into San Francisco Bay with the other. He watches in
amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater
and follows the statue into the bay, where they drown.
Badly shaken and mumbling, the tourist makes his way back to the
antique shop.
"Ah, so you've come back for the rest of the story," says the owner.
"No," says the tourist. "I was wondering if you have a bronze
conductor."
= = = = = = = =
"Madam, you have an instrument between your legs that could
bring pleasure to thousands, yet you insist on sitting there
and scratching it!" -- Sir Thomas Beechum, conductor, to a cellist
with whose performance he was displeased.
= = = = = = = =
Q: What can you tell when you see a violist drooling out of both
corners of his mouth?
A: The stage is level.
Q: What is the definition of a classical string quartet?
A: One good violin, one bad violin, one former violin, and one
who hates violins.
Q: What is the difference between a violist and a dressmaker?
A: The dressmaker tucks up frills.
Q: What is the difference between a viola and a trampoline?
A: You take off your shoes to jump on a trampoline.
Q: Why do violists leave their cases on the dashboard of their car?
A: So they can park in the handicapped spaces.
Q: What is the definition of perfect pitch?
A: Tossing a viola into the toilet without hitting the rim.
Q: What is the difference between a viola and an onion?
A: No one cries when you cut up a viola.
Q: What is the difference between violists and terrorists?
A: Some terrorists have sympathizers.
Q: What is the similarity between violists and terrorists?
A: They both mess up bowings. ["Boeings", get it?]
Q: Why is peeing in your pants like a viola solo?
A: They are both warm, close, personal experiences that no one can hear.
Q: What is the range of a viola?
A: Oh, about fifty feet.
AND THE VICTOR BORGE MEMORIAL JOKE:
Q: What is the difference between a violin and a viola?
A: The violin burns faster.
= = = = = = = =
On the eve of departing for a world tour, the orchestra's
conductor collapses with a heart attack in the middle of the final
rehearsal, and is rushed to the hospital. No replacement can be
found, but one of the viola players says "I've done a bit of
conducting. Can I try?" Management is so desperate that they
agree. The rehearsal is a great success, as is the departure
concert, so they sign the violist to conduct for the length of the
tour. The world tour is a resounding success. Three months later,
back in the States, the original conductor has recovered and is
ready to resume his post. The stand-in returns to his seat in
the viola section. "Hullo," says his seat-mate. "Haven't seen
you in months! Where have you been?"
// CREW //---------------------------------------------------------------------
Q: Why don't they give stage managers breaks?
A: It's too hard to re-train them.
Q: How tall is a union stagehand?
A: Don't know. Never seen one standing up.
Q: What is the difference between a lighting tech and a sound tech?
A: The lighting tech washes his hands _before_ he goes to the bathroom.
= = = = = = = =
A reknowned research institution undertakes to document the
spatial-cognitive processes of intellectuals in various professions.
They recruit an architect, a surgeon, and a props manager. They
construct three isolation booths, completely sealed off from
external interactions or stimuli. They place one guy in each booth,
and give each one a set of three perfectly-matched steel balls,
about three inches in diameter each. They seal the booths and return
in one week.
The architect has constructed a geometrically-perfect pyramid with
the balls, yielding insights into stress dynamics and materials
tension. The surgeon has placed the balls in a formation that hints
at the nature of the unexplored regions of the human genome, solving
some fundamental questions involving genetics and DNA.
When the props manager booth is opened, the interior is a shambles
and there are no balls to be found. Upon inquiry, the props guy
replies, "Okay, okay. I admit I *did* lose the first ball. But
I SWEAR I don't know what happened to the second one, and besides,
you only gave me two balls."
= = = = = = = =
Two union stagehands are talking at the center of the stage. They
look down and see a snail crawling across the stage. One of them
stomps on it, splattering its guts all over. In disgust, the other
guy asks, "Why did you do that?" The stomper replies, with venom
in his voice,"That thing has been following me around all day!"
= = = = = = = =
A carpenter and a lighting technician are standing before the
Pearly Gates of Heaven, and St. Peter approaches them. He says,
"We don't often get stage crew up here! Because this is a special
occasion, I've been given clearance to grant each of you one
special wish!"
The lighting guy replies, "You know, I have never seen a really
complete black-out. There was always some stray light from an
open door, or an exit sign was bleeding light onto the stage.
Even the dials from my board got in the way. I would like, just
once, to see a total and complete black-out." St. Peter smiles,
waves his hand, and *POOF* everything turns pitch black.
"This is GREAT!" comes a voice from the darkness. "Just as I
always imagined it could be. I can't see ANYTHING at all!" St.
Peter snaps his fingers, and the lights come on again. Looking
around, St. Peter notices that the Golden Gates to Heaven are
missing: vanished without a trace. "What happened to my gates?"
he cries. To which the carpenter replies, "I struck 'em during
the blackout, of course!"
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