CORNELL
September 20, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at dying institutions.
(Band marches out to "Forward" and falls dead at trio)
Don't worry, only the good die young. The Princeton Band is still alive and kicking.
Does anybody here remember Disco?
You would if you lived in New Jersey like we do.
Disco did its last dance today after a week-long bout with a fever caught
last Saturday night.
Though it was Hot Stuff for a while, Disco met the fate of every
Bad Girl, contracting that all too prevalent social disease -- too
muchous too soonous.
Experts could tell by the way it walked it could not keep
Stayin' Alive and would soon be Headed Up, Up to the Sky.
Dr. Disco is survived by his wife Roller.
The Band now delivers this touching eulogy.
(Band forms broken record on the field)
Another dying institution is the U.S. Auto Industry.
Detroit no longer seems to have the steam capable of matching the energy
of foreign imports.
As the American people continue to reject behind the times of
gas-guzzlers, American manufacturers search the alphabet for a car that
can compete with smaller Japanese models.
Hoping that big business will get its caboose into gear soon, the
Band suggests that Ford was right -- there is a better idea.
(Band forms RR Xing sign)
(A La Morley Safer)
And what about marriage?
Young couples across the nation are finding out that marriage today is a
grave undertaking.
Divorce rates are punching their
way up to all time highs while more and more
marriages go down for the count.
Even national symbol Anita Bryant's marriage has soured, the bitter
fruit of her closeted labor for love.
Yet the ones to suffer the most from these disturbing trends are the
children.
The instability of modern home life is spawning a generation of valium
popping adolescents, trapped in a seedy world of suburban playgrounds and
junior high gym lockers hoping to someday hear no more
society's taunting cry of "What about yuh mothuh?"
(Band forms 'MRS', changes to 'MOM')
And now the Band would like to prove that good music never
dies, it only P-Rades away!
(Band forms concert shell)
And now, Cornell's argument for mercy-killing.
RUTGERS
September 27, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at things that are old.
The Band just flew in from Princeton,
and boy are its arms tired (rimshot).
Perhaps nothing is as old as America's love for a good joke.
Of course, my dog is pretty old.
I just got him for my wife...not a bad trade (rimshot).
And while we're on the subject, take my wife...please (rimshot).
Forming:
- a)
- kangaroo in a bar (rimshot)
- b)
- A fly in your soup (rimshot), or
- c)
- a travelling salesman (rimshot)
(Band forms a blob)
In 1920 a group of young collegiates got together.
"Hey kids, let's put on a show," said one.
"My Dad has a football stadium," said little Skeeter Palmer.
"And my Mom can sew us hideously ugly and totally undesireable
uniforms," said one of the Brooks Brothers.
"And my Dad'll censor the shows," said young Biff Rahr.
And thus was born the first football band in the world.
And thus was slain the boring halftime.
(Band forms 'P.U.B.')
With the upcoming Presidential elections, age seems to weigh
heavily on everybody's minds.
Carter may act like a two year old, and Anderson may sound like
a teenager, but the man no one can ignore is Father Time himself,
Ronald Reagan.
Answering to charges of senility when he can remember to, the
star of such well known talkies as "Bedtime for Bonzo" contends that
you're only as old as your spiel.
Suggesting that the appropriate term here is "Ancient," the Band
welcomes back the generation gap.
(Band forms 'GOP' then changes to 'GAP')
As everyone knows, today is the last time Princeton and Rutgers will
meet in football.
Breaking with tradition the Band would like to be serious,
and take this time
to salute this oldest and grandest of all football rivalries.
(Band forms two lines)
BROWN
October 4, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at things that freshman don't get.
One freshman taboo is beer.
Governor Byrne's cut-off of the flow has been hard to swallow as it
left freshman not high, but dry.
It used to be a lonely freshman could go to the pub and gulp down a few,
but this social source of solace has been tapped out.
It's lager no longer.
No ale for sale.
Bottom's up has bottomed out.
Without beer, though, what are weekends made for, much less Miller
time?
The gusto is gone forever, as New Jersey says, "when you're out of
Bud, tough Schlitz!"
(Band forms full beer mug whose level gradually lowers)
And of course, there's love.
For many Frosh males, it seems that cupid's arrows often fall
short of their marks.
Most seem simply to miss the point, merely getting the shaft in the end.
Only a frosh male's showers are colder than his average
Princeton reception.
And what of his female counterparts?
As the sole benefactors of Princeton's stone-age sex ratio,
freshman women seem determined to break as many hearts as possible.
Though the upperclassmen search and hunt, they can never find a long-term
commitment.
Reminding all the Class of '84 that they won't be freshman forever,
the Band hopes that they'll all have a heart.
(Band forms heart and an arrow that pierces it)
Do you mind if we talk to you about...irregularity?
One thing no freshman at Princeton can get is a decent meal.
After a bout with the average Commons fare of Black Squirrel Fricase,
potatoes Hindenburg, and Veal Mandango too, many frosh have been pushed
to the brink of cannibalism simply throwing up their hands in disgust.
Salads aren't the only thing being tossed at Commons these days.
Forming:
- a)
- the cuke you puked
- b)
- the stew you blew
- c)
- the hash you flashed
- d)
- the duck you chucked, or
- e)
- f)
- the lunchmeat Brown band,
the Band suggests that its not roses that are coming up.
(Band forms blob)
One thing neither frosh nor alum can get is enough of the
high-stepping, sonic glory of the Princeton University Band.
(Band forms concert shell)
COLUMBIA
October 11, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at things we'd like to avoid.
Something many people want to avoid is thermo-nuclear war.
The Band does not share this sentiment.
What's wrong with planetary incineration?
What's wrong with a handful of world leaders playing Stratego
with four billion lives, especially when the technology is so much fun?
Why, ever since it got the bomb in 1978, Princeton steadily improved
its weaponry to the point where it can blow the Columbia football
team off the face of the earth and still leaving Baker Field
standing...temporarily?
Pressing the
button, the Band says, "of course I can't hear you.
I've got a thermo-nuclear device in my ear," and strikes up a merry
tune.
(Band forms a button, then presses it)
One thing even the Band would like to avoid doing is voting for
President this fall.
With a ring for every tossed-in hat,
the clowns have taken over the circus.
Will it be Georgia for Jimbo, job hunt for Johnzo, or bedtime for
Bonzo?
Saluting America, the Christian nation; Vietnam, the
honorable mission; and Billy, the Libyan connection, the Band suggests
a more qualified candidate.
(Band forms a pair of the famous mouse's ears)
Here's something everyone would like to avoid like the plague: the
plague.
The same devestating epidemic which obliterated half of
14th-century
England and ravaged
16th-century France is the same dreadful affliction
that reduced the Columbia band to a gibbering, half-crazed, musically
maimed knot of piteous, demented carnival curiousities.
Don't laugh...by now you've probably got it too.
That's not acne, and those little black dots aren't for pleasure.
Suggesting that we know you're out there because we hear you
breathing, the Band reminds everyone not to worry.
You're
not dead, you're just at Columbia.
(Band forms R.I.P.)
One thing you won't want to avoid
is the subtle grace and quiet dignity of
the one, the only (thank Heaven), the better and best Princeton
University Band.
(Band forms a concert shell)
Now, unavoidably, here's Columbia.
COLGATE
October 18, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at life with tubes.
Tubes have always played an important part in all our lives.
They kept us afloat in the swimming pool, they provided the
backbone to countless rolls of toilet paper, and they made easy our
oral hygeine.
But nowadays, if you are one of a special few,
the tube has taken on a new
role -- your mother.
What will become of motherhood with the advent of test-tube babies?
Somehow baseball, apple pie and test-tube-hood doesn't seem the proper
American ideal.
Could necessity ever really be the test-tube of invention?
Does your test-tube really wear army boots?
Wondering what will happen now that science has taken the fun out of
reproduction, the Band says it wants a test-tube just like the test-tube
that married dear old Dad.
(Band forms female symbol which changes to a prohibiting road sign)
(Read a la Mr. Rogers)
Hi neighbor.
It's time to turn on the tube.
We'll watch educational television.
Today we'll go to Hamilton, New York.
Can you say boonies?
Sure, I knew you could.
There's a school in Hamilton.
Colgate, too.
Can you say remedial?
I like the way you say that.
Do any of you go to school in Hamilton?
That's okay, if Mr. Band did, he'd need a minute to think about it
too.
Oh well, time to go back to the Ivy Kingdom.
Can you say Bye-bye?
(Band forms television set)
One thing that's going down the tubes is innocence.
What has caused the youth of today to suddenly become so
shockingly sophisticated?
No one is quite sure, yet children who are barely old enough to play
doctor are suddenly performing major surgery.
The adolescent who used to tremble at the though of the opposite sex
is nowadays losing more than simply his cool.
Asking if that's a tube of Clearasil, the Band forms its
collection of etchings on the field and reminds everyone that the
Mann Act lives on.
(Band forms three rectangular etchings)
And now, taking AIM at mediocrity, from the CREST of musical superiority,
the ULTRA-BRITE sounds of the
musical group that four out of five dentists
recommend -- the Princeton University Marching Band.
(Band forms P.U.B.)
HAHVAHD
October 25, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at Primitive Cultures. So hit it.
(Band breaks into Conga as it marches out)
Once upon a time in a small land called Princeton, there was a school.
It was a good school with clean students, clean cats, clean hot-pots,
and filthy halftime shows.
Then one day a group of rich primitive barbarians decided everyone at
the school was too happy.
Now these barbarians were rich -- rich enough to have dormitories
named after them -- so they hired some bounty hunters to make
everyone sad.
First there was Seligman Lagree who took away the cats.
Then there was Girgus Khan who helped take away the hot-pots.
Dave Rahr took away the halftime shows, including today's,
and finally there was Atilla the Brown,
who said, "Okay Mr. Rich Barbarian --
I'll have them build some residential colleges."
Needless to say the school was no longer happy.
In fact, it was so sad that its President took a leave of absence.
The moral: If you can't stand the heat, build a new dining facility.
(Band forms 'CURL' with 'C' as a cents sign)
One of the most frightening primitive species is that of Homo Electus.
This species exists in three main factions.
First is the Plains Wanderer, known for close family ties and strict
adherence to the adage "If at first you don't succeed..."
Geritol Man is a western dweller and has oft been seen talking to his
intellectual equal, the chimpanzee.
The third, Gesturae Futilis, is believed by many to be extinct.
Slinging mud on the field, the Band forms
- a)
- Anderson's chances
- c)
- Carter's accomplishments
- c)
- Reagan's IQ,
looking forward to election day, 1984.
(Band forms zero)
Slightly lower than Cro Magnon
man on the evolutionary scale is a tribe of
primates residing in an obscure pit in Cambridge.
Answering calls of "hello sailor,"
"pahk the cah in the yahd," and "how about a quick dip,
Senator?", the
few males of the species spend vast amounts of time huddled together
for warmth comparing the length of their resumes, the height of
their noses, and the width of their credibility gaps.
Wondering when these nit-picking
Neanderthals to the North will admit that
they're just Yalies in a red sundress, the Band forms a crowbar on the
field, demonstrating the only way to separate the Hahvahd boys.
(Band forms crowbar)
And lest we grow too smug in our look at primitive cultures, the Band
reminds us that somewhere far, far away, there might be others of an
even higher culture observing us.
Can we not imagine them turning from the telescope, throwing up
their manipulative members in consternation and shaking their
sensory clusters in wonder, as they ask, "What, indeed, is this
large festering crimson object?
What is the nature of these excruciating oscillations it is
producing?
Perhaps it is attempting unsuccessfully to produce the same
pleasant sensations as those produced by that nattily dressed orange and
black
object standing nearby."
Forming a mysterious monolith on the field, the Band applauds our
tasteful alien friends for their clever guess.
(Band forms monolith)
PENN
November 1, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at Provost Rudenstine's sense of humor.
And now, a long, hard look at the draft.
Classification 1A: the rich kid.
He doesn't have to worry.
He's got money.
He's got connections.
He's got a father who's been paying off congressmen.
When he wants to avoid a draft he puts on a sweater.
But no more.
Daddy has decided that war is good for the country and great for
business.
Don't feel sorry for this poor little rich kid.
He can get an educational deferment.
Uh oh -- he doesn't go to an educational institution.
He goes to Penn.
Classification M-16: the radical activist.
This self-proclaimed revolutionary has been fighting oppression
throughout the world for years -- by marching behind Nassau Hall.
But now, when Uncle Sam wants more than chants and speeches, our freedom
fighter replies, "what about my freedom?
I can't get killed -- I'm one of America's elite.
Only med school is worth dying for."
Suggesting that our friend may be doing his next protesting in Montreal,
the Band forms the Northern border.
Classification 65 and over: old fogey politician.
Reversing all his election promises, this patriotic warhawk has decided
that the only way to beat those Commies is to draft all the kids who
voted for his opponent.
Besides, if all the young people go to war, no one will notice how old
our button pushing friend is.
Suggesting the perfect age for drafting, the Band comes up with a better
idea: draft the politicians.
(Band forms 8^2)
Classification 4F: the Princeton Band.
Now you wouldn't want to draft us, would you?
Don't answer that, administration.
Besides,
we've formed our own paramilitary unit ready to conquer the world
with sonic Sousa power spreading truth, freedom and the Princeton way.
(Band forms three straight lines)
MAINE
November 8, 1980
(Read in a down-East accent)
Ladies and gentlemen, in its first year of music, marching, mirth, and not being able to get here from there, the University of Maine Potted Lobster Marching Band takes a short, soft look.
(Block Band walks on to "Rock Lobster" from wrong end of the field with no jackets.)
- "Well, Burt, I just had to shoot my dog."
- "Were he mad?"
- "Well, I reckon he weren't too pleased."
(Band forms 2 horizontal lines)
- "Can I take this road to Portland?"
- "Yeah, but they probably already have enough up there."
- "Have you lived here all your life?"
- "Not yet"
(Band forms concert shell)
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.
Princeton is old.
"Ah, yes, I remember it well.
F. Scott and I would head to to suck down on a few brews after squash.
It was so key; the campus, the alcohol, the Smithies.
And then one day the sot kicked.
The place just isn't the same anymore."
But this side of paradise hasn't changed that much over the years.
There's still some intense drinking action and Cottage still imports
women...in the Spring.
There are still more squash courts than professors and the student body
still looks like an L.L. Bean catalogue.
Fear not concerned alumni -- we haven't changed a bit.
Bummer!
(Band forms T-shirt with alligator on it)
What's newer than New Wave music?
Now that disco is dead and buried, it looks like Punk is here to stay.
Lead by groups with names we're not allowed to say in half-time
shows, fed by record companies out to cash in quick,
and sped by drugs even
the Band is afraid to try, it looks as if the Boogie Wonderland will soon
be deserted for greener, meaner, obscener pastures.
Forming a safety pin on the field, the Band offers its assistance.
(Band forms safety pin)
Stop.
Put your pencils down.
Now hand in your answer sheets back to your neighbor so that he can sign
the pledge.
Yes, everything is borrowed at Princeton.
Students borrow answers from their classmates,
the Honor Committee borrows
tactics from the Spanish Inquisition, and the administration borrows
ideas from Yale.
Saluting Creative Thinking and Originality, the Band salutes Creative
Thinking and Originality.
Forming:
- a)
- Creative Thinking and Originality
- b)
- Creative Thinking and Originality, or
- c)
- Creative Thinking and Originality
We say simply -- "Saludo Creative Thinking and Originality."
(Band forms 'C.T.&O.')
And what do you think when you think of Blue?
The Band thinks of the Blues that the soon to be black and blue
Yale boy's football team will be singing after a thrashing by
the Tigers in New Haven next week.
YALE
November 15, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at how to amuse yourself in New Haven.
yale students spend much of their time in New Haven amusing themselves
with stimulants and depressants.
Here, pure Columbian is not coffee.
Here, Frosty the Snowman and Puff the Magic Dragon are not cute
children's songs.
Yes, friends, in New Haven, Hash is more than leftovers, and
Space Brownies are not for astronauts.
Asking the musical question, "Son, why are there baggies of Oregano in
your room?", the Band notes, that when you're high, Everything Looks
Inverted.
(Band forms backwards 'ELI')
Yo, Band, one of your letters is backwards. (people in the "I" move around)
One thing that people do not do for amusement in New Haven is watch
the
yale Indecision marching Band.
Some bands are entertaining.
Some bands are intelligent.
Some bands march and play well.
But enough about us.
Take the
yale band -- please.
Reminding you that even if you wanted to take the
yale band out
of New Haven, you couldn't get the New Haven out of the
yale band.
Your favorite band runs an old joke further into the ground, forming a
violin on the field and saying "enough is enough is enough."
(Band forms violin)
And now
yalies, here's something to amuse you.
Something funnier than plagiarism.
Something funnier than sexual harassment suits.
Something funnier than your budget deficit.
Yes, something even funnier than a
yale diploma.
Scrap that worthless peice of paper -- you can't read it anyway.
Feast your eyes in this fact, Elis, and if you're having trouble, just
ask someone dressed in Orange and Black to read it out loud for you.
(Band forms upside-down y and flashes)
(something)
(something else)
PRINCETON #1
And now, the only truly amusing thing in all of New Haven -- the "even
Trenton is better than this pit" Princeton University Marching Band.
DARTMOUTH
November 22, 1980
Ladies and gentlemen, the Princeton University Band takes a long, hard look at Princeton in the future.
(Band plays Twilight Zone theme before stepping off)
November 22, 1984 -- and 1984 is really here.
Big Brother Anderson Brown broadcasts the day's mind control message:
- You will not use hot-pots.
- You will not violate the honor code -- when someone is looking.
- You will not mention sheep when the Dartmouth band is in town.
- You will live in residential colleges -- and like them.
The alumni are ecstatic -- now the undergrads are as mindless as they once were. But, amid the growing blackness, there still survives an orange flicker of hope and freedom -- the Princeton Band, which now takes matters into its own hands. As cries of "The band is revolting! The band is revolting!" echo through Nassau Hall, the only truly intelligent organization in the university takes control, and freedom and foul halftime shows return.
November 22, 2525 -- and Princeton has changed.
Tuition is now 300,000 dollars a year -- just half the price of a pitcher
at the pub.
The sex ratio is now 2 to 1 to 4, but the administration promises
that fewer engineers will be admitted next year.
Hotpots are still banned as heat-producing devices, but now so are
light bulbs, King's Inn chili,
and Sweet Briar girls.
Similar pressures have been felt up and down the Ivy League.
The only student loans at Yale are to the university.
The only girls at Hahvahd are still from Wellesley --
if you don't count MIT.
And Dartmouth has banned sheep.
(Band forms 'BAA' which changes to 'BAN')
November 22, 2980: Archeologists set out to find the origins of
intelligent life in the universe.
Finding only sheep remaining in Hanover and nothing at all in Bahstahn,
they begin excavations on a quiet hillside amid the desolation and
destruction that is and always has been New Jersey.
They uncover 2000 hidden hotpots, a large green doughnut shaped
object, and a record of music so grand that there could only be
one source.
Across the years and the universe, for marching, for Playing, and for
entertaining, the legend of the Princeton University Band lives on.
(Band forms script 'PU' surrounded by high school bands and plays...)
"Orange and the Black"
(Upon conclusion of the O and the B, the Band executes a swift double rippled tip of the hat, ending yet another fine season of music, marching, merriment, and mirth.)