Kazoos were at the heart of the initial idea for smallness exercises. One of the first items that came to mind. So I was surprised to find myself struggling to write about them. After a couple weeks of non-starts, I realized the problem: my feelings about kazoos are so simple and clear, so palpable, they seem beyond the need to explain. I feel that kazoo enthusiasm should be so thoroughly shared, and mutually understood, as to mimic telepathy. I should just be able to say, “Kazoos!” and receive an ecstatic reply of “Yes! I know!!” or “Kazoos? Fuck yeah!”

However, I am (mostly) reconciled to the fact that this is not a realistic expectation.  And even if it were, it wouldn’t make for much of a blog post. So let us push on.

Kazoos. Kazoos! Even when I think the word ‘kazoo’, I find that I’m grinning. The name itself is joyous. It sounds like it belongs amongst the exclamations of “Callooh! Callay!” that one of Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky characters “chortled in his joy.” Kazoo! Kazay!