Seriously. Elderly man in Southeast Portland is bombarding the city’s tiny noise violation office, complaining of the nearby elementary school’s samba band.
Elementary. School. SAMBA. Band.
Okay. How cool is it that there’s a samba band of little kids?! But the fact that Mr. Crotchety Old Man has a bee in his bonnet about their several practices outside—actually a whopping 10 hours total spread out over several weeks—is pitiful. Over the past 2 weeks or so, the city has listened and worked with Mr. Crotchety Old Man for seven or eight hours. They’ve made the band apply for a noise variance. But Mr. Crotchety Old Man is still making a stink.
If Mr. Crotchety Old Man gets his way, and silences the samba bad, I offer this sad visual to think about. This weekend’s St. Johns parade had a few members from Roosevelt’s former marching band, carrying signs reading things like ”RIP: budget cuts RHS band”.
Come on. Give the kids a break. Enjoy their music and let them experience a little bit of joy in the wonder of music in the schools. Not everybody gets to hear that music anymore…and it’s samba for chrissakes!
Read the story in The Oregonian.
Of course, the sound of Mr. Crochety Old Man's lawnmower, leafblower, edger, and chainsaw are far preferable to the racket those kids are creating.
That is sad, sad news about the RHS band. I know this sounds dorky, but one of the few things I enjoyed about high school was being in the marching band and particpating in marching band competitions. We kicked ass and were much more famous and successful than our pathetic football team. And yet, the school board was always threatening to cut funding for the music program, but wouldn't dream of touching the precious budget alloted for football.
Yes I am still harboring a bee in my bonnet about that.
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