Strike up the Band

It has been a few month's since my high school band incident, but, I was scarred again on Saturday when I saw this fellow.  

Early October, it was my turn to work the ticket gate at a high school football game.  I always get there early because there is no point in turning around and going back home after the drop off and truth be told, if you get there early, you get the ticket gate and not the concession stand.  

As I stood outside the ticket gate, I was watching the marching band practice.  No lie, it was maybe only 90 degrees at this point, and tiny, petite girls were hauling huge pieces of percussion instruments with sweat just dripping from them.  Gross.  I noticed the soccer players coming off the practice fields and they were "just sweaty."  Doesn't mean they weren't sweaty, just saying that at that particular moment, they didn't look like the percussion ladies.

I stood there listening to the familiar, "Five, six, seven, eight" and watched the directors from the stand, four of them, guiding, yelling and instructing.  

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a gentleman I knew.  I knew him from wrestling.  His son also wrestled with the "button".  I was shocked to see him.  I was certain he didn't have any more children and then I thought, "who knows in this crazy world?"

He stops, says hello and I return the greetings and I say, "surprised to see you here, I thought your kids were grown and had graduated."

"Oh, they have.  My brother and his wife are away at a a wedding, so we are watching my nephew."

"Oh, all this coming back to you now.  What team is he on?"

Get ready, "Oh he isn't on a team."  He moved closer to me and whispered, "He's in the band."  I would like to add that that he scrunched up his face like he just smelled sour milk.

"He's in the band, awesome. This band is awesome.  Man, I love marching bands."

He looks at me like I am certified nut job and says, "He is in the band.  So embarrassed for my brother."

I look at him, without skipping a beat (get it?) and ask, "Curious, have you ever heard of Beethoven, Mozart, Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Elvis, Donnie Osmond?  Seriously, you are embarrassed?  Those guys are how old and they are still around?  Name 25 famous athletes from the last five years, now, go?"

I am sure the thought cloud above his head was, "Just came to get my nephew and I run into her, still loud and mouthy, why didn't I just walk by her.?"

He shook his head.

I was fired up.  "Are you by any chance going to the band competition tomorrow?"
"No, my wife is going."
"Have you ever been?
"No."
"Change your plans and go.  It will not disappoint.  Trust me."

I LOVE band competitions.  

He walked off.  I have no idea if he went or not.
When I saw him on Saturday, he was in the stands cheering for someone and it wasn't the time.

The Farmer's Almanac must have had an argument with a former band director years ago.  If you want to know when the hottest week of the year is, just know it is ALWAYS the week of band camp.

The "button" would come home nightly, a lean, mean, athletic fighting machine, and he would shower, lay down on the bed, belly first,spread his butt cheeks  and say "Mom, I am ready, get the cornstarch, baby powder of Monkey Butt, I am ready."  By nine pm he was sawing logs.

Average weight loss during Band Camp Week, "9 pounds."  The "button" always said it was "like Musical Biggest Loser."

Band Camp Week always ends with Friday night show.  No costumes, uniforms or any of sizzle, just kids in t shirts doing a really raw half time show for parents.

I was sitting with my other two children when I saw them, the "pretty couple".  He was the QB and the captain of his football team, the mother was the cheerleader.  They were perfect.  Sheepishly, they were attending.  It was their first "raw, band camp performance."

Of course the gnats were out, mosquitoes too, no breeze and still 100 degrees when this started.  The "pretty couple" sat right beside me.

This dad had no idea what high school marching band was all about.  He wanted his son to play football, instead he chose a brass instrument.  And his son was serious about  it.

Finally, the "pretty" dad leans over and asks to me, "have they memorized all THIS music?"

"Yes, and the formations too.  This performance doesn't even included the National Anthem, fight songs, all that."

His posture changed.  He shook his head.  The sweat was pouring from his son who was marching into a sea of gnats and didn't even flinch.

"Pretty dad became Proud dad".  I am sure the mom did too.

My first year at West Virginia University, I don't think the Mountaineers won a game.  In fact, I am certain of it.

The stadiums were full every home game Saturday because we had something the other teams did not have, "The Pride of West Virginia, THE WVU Marching Band."

When the band ran out of the tunnel, the crowd went nuts.  The following year, the new stadium was built and you could see and hear the band coming down the hill.  To this day, just thinking about it, I get goosebumps.

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=WVU+marching+band+ideo&&view=detail&mid=438DC5084A80ED323E23438DC5084A80ED323E23&FORM=VRDGAR

Better yet, it gives other goosebumps.

During the 2008 Olympics, it wasn't that athletes that amazed me.  It was the 2008 Chinese drummers, drumming in unison.  2008 Chinese drummers.  It was amazing.  I made my kids watch the practice video because the entire concept is amazing.  Tryouts for the 2008 drummers.  2008 drummers in a line.  2008 drummers showing up for practice.  2008 chafed drummers needing Monkey Butt, 2008 drummers!  Amazing.  Name an athlete who brought home gold in 2008?

No wonder countries are afraid of the Chinese?  Try finding 28 people who want to work at the new BoJangles in our town?  2008 drummers, drumming in simultaneously.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6BDGPRBaDtE

During the winter Olympics, even my own husband turns his nose at the pairs figure skaters.  He always has some sort of "pansy" comment.  Of course, I am quick with, "you try ice skating  at 60 miles per hour and hoist a person over your head and keep them there for seconds...do it Miami man.  You cannot even ice skate."  This will be our home in February.

The coolest thing about being a mom to me is seeing what makes each child "tick".  They are all raised in the same home and are usually exposed to the same things but it is what they bring to the parents that is usually the most fun and interesting.

I NEVER thought I would know what a flyer or a base is, enjoy the smell of horse poop or not even mind the flies, never thought I would be yelling "shoot" to a guy in a "singlet" (took me forever to learn what that was called), and never thought I would be an expert on ringworm remedies or use a pressure washer to get stains out of baseball pants.  All part of the job, all part of the joy.

The first sense that babies develop in utero, the sense of hearing.  Your voice is what the hear first.  Don't tell me you have never song the ABC's song to figure out what letter comes next.  

Passions are awesome when you find them.   Some people never do.  Many times, kids don't quit band, their parents do.   I have met some of my best friends because of my kids and passions.  My best memories have been because of their passions.  
And to the millions of band members  who have made Micheal Jackson moonwalk across a football field, years after his death, I say thank you.