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Here's a personal experience about audiences, or rather one's perception of audience. My first real instrument was tuba, and in middle school I played in the marching band. One Sunday we were playing at a big parade, with me at the left side of a row of brass, and as usual my vision was completely obscured due to the huge white bell. About 20 minutes into the march, I heard a light clang, like a pebble being thrown against fiberglass. Soon there were more clangs, and more, and soon I became aware of a shuffling sound down in the bowels of the sousaphone. I quickly realized that people were throwing stuff INSIDE my horn, and it was piling up inside. The rain of dings continued, and I got more and more pissed off, no doubt exacerbated by the fact of being a 90-pound dude carrying a 25-pound instrument in full sun for an hour. Finally, I'd had it. As my right hand continued to work the three valves to "El Capitan", I stuck my left hand out in front of the enormous bell and raised my middle finger in mute rage. I couldn't see any of the people who were suffering the curse of The Bird, but I knew it was working, as the clanging started to die down. Finally, we reached the end of the parade route. I threw the horn off my shoulder with great relief, and sat down to catch my breath. As the rest of the band began to pack up, I turned my Bb hog upside down to rid it of the debris...and out tinkled several dollars in small change. Tips. Somewhere in there is a useful metaphor. Daryl Shawn www.swanwelder.com www.chinapaintingmusic.com