They’re coming. You know it won’t be long. You know you’ll see them at Yankee Stadium. You’ll see them at Cowboys Stadium. You may even see them at Joe Bruno Stadium.
It’s the vuvuzela.
No, I’m not doing a blog post about personal body jewelry.
The vuvuzela is the the plastic horn that you heard throughout the US-England World Cup match. It sounded like an turbojet warming up – and warming up – and warming up – for 90 minutes, plus about 7 minutes of stoppage time.
It’s an annoying little plastic horn, and if you multiply it by 100,000 South African soccer fans, of which maybe 90,000 actually know how to play the little horn, it can make the wax drip out of your ears.
Look, if baseball can have thundersticks and the wave and everybody going “bomp bomp bomp” the minute Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” hits the speakers, what’s wrong with bringing some of these plastic horns to the game? You want to channel your inner James Brown sideman fantasy? You want to be one of Parliament / Funkadelic’s Horny Horns backup band?
The vuvuzela as the musical instrument of the people. In fact, it doesn’t even have to be limited to the sports world. I can see it now…
4 o’clock in the morning… The sun is rising over the bustling city of Aurora, Colorado. Steven Dock, the owner of Rocky Mountain Film Lab, is rolling over for another couple of hours of slumber.
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
He hears a loud bleating noise outside his window. Almost like the sound of a failed American Idol contestant attempting to hit that elusive high note.
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
He gets out of bed. In his front yard are dozens of disgruntled patrons of Rocky Mountain Film Lab, demanding that something be done with their vintage film – either return it or develop it.
“Hey Steven Dock! FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
The sound can be heard all the way to Denver.
Meanwhile, a telemarketer from August Cove Resorts tries to call a house in Albany in an attempt to sell a timeshare experience. She dials the Miller residence. I answer the phone.
“Mr. Miller, I’m from August Cove Resorts, and we would like you to -”
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
The sound you just heard is that woman running to the doctor, and giving up her telemarketing job forever.
Meanwhile, in an office building on Albany-Shaker Road in Colonie, Michael Huber is about 15 seconds away from winning an eBay treasure he’s coveted for years, but never actually gotten lucky enough to acquire – a first edition of The Lord of the Rings, autographed by J.R.R. Tolkien. The bid is high, but he can snipe the bid in the final seconds and win the book outright. “My precious,” he smiles, as he starts to put in the final snipe bid…
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
“FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!”
At which point he discovers that, in addition to missing out on the book, he realizes that the new Vuvuzela International Choir has come to visit – and to ask if they can join the TU blog community.
As I said… everybody go vuvuzela crazy!!
Chuck The Writer 
Here’s hoping those are made in the same factory as the cadmium tainted Shrek glasses.
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According to credible reports from the games themselves, the vuvuzela is MUCH less annoying in person. It seems that the way the ambient microphones are used by broadcasters means that the sound is aggregated into the “airplane waiting for takeoff” effect.
Many football/futbol/sovver fans heard the vuvuzela throughout last years’ Gold Cup, so this is not new. I happen to not mind it that much, and even imagine I might soon enjoy it. But then, I like some pretty heavy dubstep music too…
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I’ll be bringing a Vuvuzela to the next trivia that I know chuck miller will be at.
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