A kazoo is the industrial-age successor to the folk mirlitons, such as onion-skin or gourd buzzers. Technically, it’s a tubular mirliton, classified as a membrane aerophone that relies on vocal vibration rather than being struck or blown like a traditional flute. The tube acts as a resonator, and the membrane does the buzzing.

As a clown, I was looking for small and silly instruments that were lightweight and could fit in my pockets. I purchased the Blue Kazoo for its improved durability, replaceable diaphragms, and appearance compared to plastic toy kazoos. I felt that if my dog Gwinn got hold of it, she wouldn’t be able to do much damage, and the lack of soft plastic would discourage her from proceeding. I must be going color-blind, as the kazoo itself is not blue but just polished anodized aluminum.

The kazoo arrived at my doorstep the next day with only about 400 waking hours to practice before National Kazoo Day on January 28th – a far cry from Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000-hour myth of mastery. I don’t recall playing one of these before, but I’ve always considered them a novelty instrument for children.

The packaging included three spare membranes and a canvas bag with a carabiner folded and stuffed into a blue tube, which was difficult to pull out by hand. I initially heard nothing. (Had I mistaken the blue tube for packaging rather than the kazoo itself?) When I unscrewed the cap, I discovered a membrane had slipped loose, and the cover had been overtightened during shipping – a kazoo rendered silent by excessive engineering.

Once you are done playing with your kazoo, you’ll find it difficult to put it back in the canvas bag that came with it. Place one side against a corner and gently push to stretch the bag while trying to squeeze it inside. After the first or second time, it gets easier to store and retrieve.