Article VII, History: Fruition
Having experimented with tasty treats, sexual appeal, and fear, our leadership was grasping at straws for a way to increase our numbers. One evening, The Preservation Society Board of Dictatorial Governance happened to catch a television broadcast of Barry Manilow’s latest Christmas Special and the wheels of imagination began to turn once again.
The Preservation Society: An Autobiographical Ethnomusicological Collective
Nearly two years passed since the Sir's last musical collaboration and on an autumn evening, the Grant Beach neighborhood in Springfield Missouri was treated to the sweet nectar of accordion, banjo, clarinet, baritone, and percussive harmony. After a hearty seventeen-minute practice and three-hour self-congratulatory post-rehearsal frolic, the mission accomplished banner was strung up. Plaques were exchanged and we glad-handedly agreed that we would soon rouse the masses to join us in our pursuits.
Ethnomusicological articles numbered 1 through 13 were gathered and recorded by Class II Member Daniel Kirkpatrick in conjunction with the International Heliophysical Year 2007 on August 12, 13, and 14. The Articles were thereafter mixed and mastered by Class II Member Todd Gummerman.
The Preservation Society Headquarters, which lies within the city limits of Springfield Missouri, was used as the primary gathering grounds for the aforementioned documents. Despite midday temperatures ranging from 100-102 degrees Fahrenheit and the desire for open exterior portals, Springfield Missouri city ordinance 6-1503, which states that a personal residence emitting sound greater than sixty (60) dBA can be ticketed and fined, was followed unconditionally.
At the height of our power dozens, if not twenties of die-hardened Preservation Society members would assemble at one of our conclaves to wrap themselves in our self-reflective glory. Each one a mirror reflecting the light held by our senior minister to one another. The resulting beams of reflected inspiration were quite a sight to behold. Not of our members had graduated past a Class III, save our board members, but they were good kids.
At this time, The Preservation Society Conduct Bulletin was in constant flux. Just as we always hoped it would. Non-members suddenly find themselves promoted above long-standing adherents and zealots of our institution were spontaneously labeled Backslidden Deviants almost hourly. It was perfect. Who, but ourselves could have imagined such a time as this!
Our meetings were filled with sweet and somber music played by Mr. JRH. Each tune swept from the dusty corners of his mind. After many a performance of ethnomusicological gatherings, a line of listeners would approach our dear leader with misty eyes and a rumpled ten dollars bill in their hands to sign up for an entry-level position amongst us. A compact disk of recordings would be bestowed in their grubby hands and with a pat on the head and a nod they were inducted into the Preservation Society.
In all humbleness, it was not necessary for the city of Springfield to erect a bronze statue in honor of the recording of our musical discoveries. But it was much appreciated. However, in an unfortunate schematic mix-up, the statue known as, “The Preservation Society Board of Dictatorial Governance Rides a Single Stag into the Future” ended up looking like our city’s well-off uncle, Mr. John Q. Hammons. We will accept an appropriate apology at any time.
To clear up what might be deemed "appropriate" We submit the following reparational measures:
1. October 1st declared A Day of Preservation complete with parade, children's carnival, and an event called The Citywide Lemming Chase. Details of The Citywide Lemming Chase will be explained in great detail at a later date.
2. An apology for, and revoking of the ticket resulting from The Preservation Society Board of Dictatorial Governance’s actions on February,8, 2007. We were, to say the least, taken aback when our mid-afternoon "Preservation Pizza Party Protest" in Mayor Tom Carlson's office was descended upon by the powers that be (ahem). Had they RSVPed or shown up with other intentions than to wrestle each of us to the ground and site us with a violation of city ordinance 32-654, our position could take a more generous turn.
3. Permanently fix a shin high brass rail across the doorway to their chambers. Thus, in a careless moment, when memory of schematic fumblings fade, the twinge of a raked extremity might well tears of sorrow in elected eyes.
A full pardon from any further consequences will be awarded to the Springfield City Council provided they observe these reparational measures. Recasting our likeness and placing it on the courthouse lawn; with fingers pointed to the horizon we shall never reach, would also be a welcomed gesture of good faith.
Despite our entanglements with the powers that be, the membership roster of The Preservation Society was rapidly growing. For the sum of dollars, ten, and a pledge of perpetual obligation, scads of previous cretins shed their disfigured hearts and minds and were welcomed into our institution. As our ranks grew the coffers overflowed with Alexander Hamiltons. We were a force to be reckoned with. Skepticism was our wake and our organizational Titanic sped ever-quickly into the night.
