Tales From The Band Room

The Wooden Leg- A Mr. Cash Story

This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Bri, who gave me this idea and many, many more.

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Now, a brief introduction to Mr. Cash stories.

If you're a good reader who reads this book in order LIKE IT'S MEANT TO BE READ, you already know that Mr. Cash is my (somewhat) insane band director.

What you may not know about band directors is that they all have to take a class on storytelling and spend at least two years as a stand-up comedian in order to become a band director. Or at least that's the only way I can justify how ridiculously good they all are at storytelling.

The difference between Mr. Cash and other people who try to tell funny stories is he was a young make with (probably) some form of ADHD, upwards of four years in college, and upwards of nine years in band before he even started teaching it. Needless to say, he's racked up a lot of good material, all of which either start with "So I was in college" or "So I was on a band trip", and end with something you would never expect, like "And that's why you never go to Cici's Pizza with a trombone on a Thursday" (disclaimer: not actually part of a Mr. Cash story).

Now that that's out of the way, time to tell you guys what happened (from Mr. Cash's point of view, of course).

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It happened one of the first years I was teaching band here. Since I hadn't been here for long, some of the previous band director's stuff was still in my office. After school, I was hanging out with the kids who didn't have to leave right after the dismissal bell. Since the band program was much smaller then, I would take them all back to my office.

In my office, there was a coat rack, and there was a wooden cane hanging off of it. Not realizing it was just a remnant of a previous teacher, one of the kids asked why I had a cane back there.

Instead of just telling the truth, I chose the much more entertaining option of setting how far I could go with an unbelievable lie. So I told them it was for my wooden leg.

The best part is, they bought it. Yeah, all of them were going, "OMG, that's so cool!"

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Another thing about Mr. Cash stories is they often end abruptly, with an "Okay, now back to the piece" or something like that.

Sooo...

I'm really bad with ending off these, so see you later! Don't forget to vote, comment, and share! Every time you vote, donations are made to Save the Piccolo, a charity devoted to rescuing the world's most annoying instrument from when all other band kids inevitably unite to destroy all piccolos. Or maybe I'm the only one whose fantasies revolve around throwing tiny flutes off a high cliff. Now that I put that image in your mind, have a great day!