Word: pondful
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...composer, whose fascination with medieval legend he shared. Upon his accession to the throne, he summoned Wagner from Stuttgart, installed him in a Munich suburban house, bankrolled the first productions of his most famous operas. Atop the Munich Residence he built a huge greenhouse with a lily pond. Floating in a barge clad as Lohengrin, he watched slides of the Venusberg cast on the walls by a projector, while a hidden orchestra played Tannhäuser. Though World War II bombs shattered the greenhouse, the red-cushioned barge has been reinstalled on a blue-lit lake of mirror...
...look at his own house with its connotations of handling a wife and mistress. We must assume at this point that somewhere in Chris's soul he feels all security begin to crumble. But rather than enter either house, metaphorically to solve his many problems, he walks to a pond where he sits watching his toy yachts, retreating like Norman Bates in Psycho into his private thoughts...
...being occupied by an antiforce, as hippies from all over the U.S. invade it for what may be the flagging flower world's last great love-in. They spend their days singing, sleeping and making love. As the hot weather sets in, they frolic in the Frog Pond or listen to rock concerts by such groups as the Ultimate Spinach...
...Open Pit?", dashes across the lawn with a bottle of Open Pit barbecue sauce and disappears into an open pit. A baker, having carelessly forgotten his Vicks Cough Silencers, tosses pizza dough into the air, coughs and catches it splat in the face. Splat again, as the Pond's girl gets schlopped in the eye with cold cream. And whack! umph! and aaagh! as a mousy little guy, sploshed with Hai Karate after-shave lotion, brutally chops down a scent-crazed female on the make. Nothing like a little good-natured sadism to punch home a point...
...musical prestige as well as pitch, it is hard to get any lower on the scale than the double bass. Rumbling and ungainly, it is the bullfrog of the orchestral lily pond-laughed at by laymen, slighted by composers, and even cursed by its own players, who call it a "monster" or a "baroque doghouse." Once, after Conductor Serge Koussevitzky gave his Boston Symphony players a dazzling demonstration of bass playing, one of them said he was so good that "he sounded like a lousy cellist." At the time, Koussevitzky was one of three men in the 250-year history...