The Music In My Life: Part V

They keep throwing threats at me to either participate in marching band (MB) but just the thought of putting on another thick, hot marching uniform crammed between tubas and clarinets annihilates my stomach contents. In high school, it was either march or don’t play music at all. I cannot continue to have my music threatened by some administration’s desperate need for bodies to support whatever cause the band is marching for.

Never will I be able to rid my ears of the maniacal voice of my high school music director. A loud whistle would slice through all instruments and would conclude with his voice “STOP – STOP - STOP!” I knew what would follow:

“G*DDAMMIT (MY LAST NAME)!!! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO HAVE TO DO TO TEACH YOU HOW TO TIE YOUR SHOES?!? HOW OLD ARE YOU!?! EVERYONE – LET’S STOP WHILE WE WAIT FOR (MY LAST NAME) TO GET HER DAMN SHOES TIED – AGAIN!”

I don’t know why I could never keep them tied. To this day, I still cannot. It seems as if they are controlled by a force beyond my control and that I have too many other things to keep track of.

Almost as bad, were those trips on that lousy bus that reeked of a mixture of locker room and cheap perfume. Since our town was so small, there was no such thing as band geeks. Since most of the members were extraverted jocks and cheerleaders, what few geeks there were ran in the other direction. I hated sitting in that bus – the only person occupying a seat to herself. I quietly endured the periodic harassment, prayed for my escape, and wondered why could they not just let me play how I want?

During my junior year I was ranked first in the state and was to provide lead saxophone in a state-wide honors band that would open opportunities for me but the school would not promote an activity for just me. Instead, they spent their money on the girls’ volleyball team by sending them to watch state finals after they had failed to place locally. They had rather spend their money on a whole group of losers than one winner.

Anyway, the most amazing discovery I’ve made since arriving on campus has been the realization that I DON’T HAVE to go to “their dance” or “their party” and I most certainly do not have to go their “band trip.”