The cheap seats (or, I went to this concert and all I got was this T-shirt)
All right! I'm only a week late with this!
The Hoffman Estates concert is typically a highlight. It is rare to come across a band of this caliber in a grade school. In fact, I am certain that there are a lot of high school bands that couldn't compete with their senior band. Most grade school bands, mine included, couldn't really compete with their intermediate band. Junior band, well, it's junior band, and there were not that many beginners this year compared to most years. But I always look forward to this show.
I like to get there early, but not too early, because there's always a risk of the programs running out. Since I talk with Mr. C beforehand, I usually get a seat reserved. Usually. Friday night, I walked in and saw seats reserved for families, but none for him. Hmm. It took me a while to find him because I kept running into people I knew from camp--one of the moms, who wasn't there last year, and Martin, a former counselor, who hadn't heard *any*thing about what had happened. As it turns out, Jerry did make T-shirts and was even wearing his, so I told Martin to read the back of the shirt. More in a bit.
When I found Mr. C, he said there actually wasn't a seat for me, but I could have his on the side of the gym. Heck, that's fine. I got to sit next to the table that held the trophies for perfect attendance and outstanding band members. So, I had the cheap seats. I could only really see the percussion section and the last row of flutes, but the sound was fine.
The show itself: It started with I-Band. I'd personally played two of the songs back in the day. "Affirmation Overture" I remember doing as a Monster Band song in my last year as a camper--I played the entire thing 8va (that's an octave higher than written for you non-musical people, not that you'd really understand that, either). And "Come Back to Sorrento," which I played in seventh grade. It features a trumpet solo. Heh, I remember goading a certain eighth-grade trumpet player named Phil to play it at our concert, *during* the concert, because he didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway. The soloist actually plays horn now but started on trumpet, and I think he's an I-Band helper--I think he's actually in seventh grade. I know him from camp and know he wasn't one of my students. Oh, one of the things Mr. C does at this school is a buy-a-song deal. A number of the songs had a "donated by" listing in the program; the families that donate money get reserved seating at the concert. One song was donated by the Manson family. There was no Manson child in the program. Is this...wait a minute...*shudder*
(Oh, and there's a better story along those lines. Wait for it.)
Junior Band was, well, a typical junior band. That was kind of disappointing, actually, but then again I had a kickass JB. Of course, I had crazy eighth graders that joined in, so the sound was pretty phenomenal for a group that had started the prior fall. I got to hear "The Peanut Song," which is one I came across while teaching. We had this folder filled with miscellaneous beginner tunes by Gerald Sebesky--who wrote "The Peanut Song"--and that was one I kept coming across as I sorted them out one day. They also did "One, Two, Three" and "The Crusaders," which I did at various schools, as well as "Antique Car Parade," which was a recent camp song.
I'd forgotten until a few hours before the concert that it was flute-o-phone night. Joy. And he changed up the fabulous flute-o-phone fable slightly, substituting Walmart for the bakery where Mary gets her hot cross buns. (Basically, Mr. C creates a story out of the nursery rhyme tunes the kids play. It makes the whole thing slightly interesting.) I was intrigued by the harmony in "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," mostly because there's not supposed to be harmony, but it sounded pretty good. Oh, and I still have it--I fingered along the whole time.
Senior Band. The piece de resistance. They're not quite as full as my SB was, but then again there was no tuba nor an Eb contrabass clarinet (and who plays that besides Kris? :P ) Every single song they played was a camp song, including a number of them from just last year. That was nice--I got to hear "Wicked" all the way through, and "Pop Culture" was good. That second one almost made me cry. Mr. C explained that it was full of various 20th-century songs that didn't belong in the same program, much less the same piece. You had the themes from The Flintstones, Scooby-Doo, and James Bond, plus "Wipe-Out" and others. This was the piece that included "Hey, Baby!" That was the song the counselors started singing in the cafeteria during our final dinner last year to try to cheer up the kids; we ended up with virtually everyone doing a conga line. It's a bittersweet memory. But I smiled, and then was confused when the flutes all started raising their stands toward the end...until I realized that the last song was "The Stars and Stripes Forever," and they all had the obbligato. Heh. Also special, my two remaining fourth-grade drummers played traps for "Wicked" and "Pop Culture." When I say my fourth graders were better drummers than I was, these two kids were who I meant. They were pretty amazing as beginners, quickly picking up difficult rhythms, and they haven't slowed down at all. Both of them won the outstanding band member award, along with the "Sorrento" soloist.
After the show, since I was sitting next to the table, I helped pass out the different award trophies. Since there were so few junior kids, instead of handing out perfect attendance awards, they all got "Promoted to Intermediate Band" awards. After Mr. C announced that, I counted the trophies--17 total. Wow. That *is* a small junior band here! However, when it came time for the kids to get their trophies--and trust me, the little ones did not forget--we ran out. Erk. The two older bands have an actual uniform, while the little kids have bright yellow shirts with black pants. They were pretty easy to spot, so I had no trouble handing out their trophies without asking questions, and I doubted that they'd grab more than one. I felt really, really badly for the kids that didn't get their trophies--there were probably half a dozen of them all told. At one point, four of them were standing around me and I had to go, you know, Mr. C can only count to four; anything higher than that, he has trouble. (It's a musician's joke that they're too young to understand.) One of the moms was writing down names to try and remedy the situation. Honestly? He's done that before, just not to that degree. Keep in mind, though, that he does this school by himself. He only had an assistant for a year after he had me, and he's been on his own since. I don't know why. But an assistant would have been able to double-check his numbers...as well as give him a break in conducting, which I'm sure he needed. He's not a small guy. He has knee problems. He ended up having to sit on his director's chair for most of the concert because his knee would have given out otherwise. It makes me wonder how many more years he'll be teaching--his heart will be in it, but his body won't cooperate. Trust me, the man has plenty left to give his students.
Anyway, I ran into former students and others after the show. I mentioned Jerry and the shirt; well, my partner in crime #7 on said shirt was there with a friend. She hadn't yet seen Jerry and ran to find him, then came back and was upset that she's listed as "The Cripple" and not by her name. Honey, we're trying to protect you here. However, she was amused, and she's fully ambulatory again, so that's good. She's trying to be a counselor, but I have no idea who else is in front of her. I also saw Mrs. C, whom I didn't recognize at first; I thought she was a band parent. Gah. There were several people like that who'd come up and start talking to me and I'd have no idea who they were until they mentioned their kid or something like that. It was pretty bad. Anyway, so Mrs. C hadn't realized I was coming, and when she saw me she said it was too bad I had to sit on the side the whole time because there was an open seat next to her. It had been reserved for someone but was never used. Turns out she was right by the traps set, so she had full-on drums for part of the time. Well, if it's any consolation, I had that for most of the show--but at least they weren't facing me.
Normally when we break down the concert set-up, we stack up all the chairs and put them under the stage. Well, this is the school that has been looking to redo their church--ask me about the coffee pot story--and the remodel finally is underway. The gym--ahem, "multipurpose room"--is now the church, so instead of putting away the chairs, we simply turned them to face the stage. We still had to put stands and such away, though. Jerry and Martin were taking down a speaker that had a flag on it, and the flag fell off and apparently beaned Martin in the head. That is classic Martin, by the way. However, Mr. C then said, did I ever tell you guys how I got that flag? Something like 30-35 years ago, when he was just starting out at one of his schools (I'm going to guess the Buffalo Grove school), he had a guy come up to him who said, my niece and nephew are in this band; how can I help you out? Mr. C said, well, I could use a marching flag, so the guy went and got him that flag. The guy's name? John Wayne Gacy. *shudder* Realize Mr. C doesn't lie about this sort of thing...oh, what a creepy tidbit.
Jesus also tried attacking as well. The stuff for the portable altar was in a storage closet, and I went to help Jerry move it out. Somehow we jostled Jesus and he came a-tumblin' down, but he didn't fall all the way down, at least. By the time we started setting up the church, there were maybe a half-dozen of us left. I don't know why I stayed to help, aside from wanting to get a shirt from Jerry, but I did. It took a while and we still didn't finish, but it was in good shape for the morning. The same family that was helping had to come back and help in the morning, so naturally they wanted to get as much done as possible, but it had been a long day--the daughter was a band member, and I wouldn't doubt that one or both parents worked. Anyway, I'm sure they appreciated the help, even if they may not have known who I was. (I did remember the mom. I first recall meeting her at solo contest right before I started teaching. I taught her middle daughter; all three go to camp.)
Finally we finished in the gym as well as putting stuff away upstairs, and around that time the eighth grade gathering in the cafeteria finished, so Jerry and Mr. C and I talked for a little bit before Mr. C left. Then Jerry and I went to his truck so I could get my shirt. He warned me that they ran small, and shrank, so I went with a large. I have yet to try it on, but I have washed it and it doesn't seem too bad.
By the way, Senior Band goes on a field trip each spring. They usually rotate between Milwaukee (where I went), Indianapolis, and Springfield; this year, since they played "Wicked," they're going to see "Wicked." Wicked. :)
Also, on the way home, I saw gas for $3.91. Even though it was like 11:20 at night and I was exhausted, I couldn't pass up the bargain. (Consider now that the cheap gas by me is up to $4.09.) I had issues in getting the handle out, but the lady next to me had the same problem and told me to yank hard while pulling up, and that did the trick. Thanks.
Oh, and since I know you're wondering what it says on the back of the shirt:
I was directly involved in #7 (driving the golf cart) and indirectly in #8 (riding in the "ambulance" while taking #6 to the hospital). I tell you, last year was a blast.
The Hoffman Estates concert is typically a highlight. It is rare to come across a band of this caliber in a grade school. In fact, I am certain that there are a lot of high school bands that couldn't compete with their senior band. Most grade school bands, mine included, couldn't really compete with their intermediate band. Junior band, well, it's junior band, and there were not that many beginners this year compared to most years. But I always look forward to this show.
I like to get there early, but not too early, because there's always a risk of the programs running out. Since I talk with Mr. C beforehand, I usually get a seat reserved. Usually. Friday night, I walked in and saw seats reserved for families, but none for him. Hmm. It took me a while to find him because I kept running into people I knew from camp--one of the moms, who wasn't there last year, and Martin, a former counselor, who hadn't heard *any*thing about what had happened. As it turns out, Jerry did make T-shirts and was even wearing his, so I told Martin to read the back of the shirt. More in a bit.
When I found Mr. C, he said there actually wasn't a seat for me, but I could have his on the side of the gym. Heck, that's fine. I got to sit next to the table that held the trophies for perfect attendance and outstanding band members. So, I had the cheap seats. I could only really see the percussion section and the last row of flutes, but the sound was fine.
The show itself: It started with I-Band. I'd personally played two of the songs back in the day. "Affirmation Overture" I remember doing as a Monster Band song in my last year as a camper--I played the entire thing 8va (that's an octave higher than written for you non-musical people, not that you'd really understand that, either). And "Come Back to Sorrento," which I played in seventh grade. It features a trumpet solo. Heh, I remember goading a certain eighth-grade trumpet player named Phil to play it at our concert, *during* the concert, because he didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway. The soloist actually plays horn now but started on trumpet, and I think he's an I-Band helper--I think he's actually in seventh grade. I know him from camp and know he wasn't one of my students. Oh, one of the things Mr. C does at this school is a buy-a-song deal. A number of the songs had a "donated by" listing in the program; the families that donate money get reserved seating at the concert. One song was donated by the Manson family. There was no Manson child in the program. Is this...wait a minute...*shudder*
(Oh, and there's a better story along those lines. Wait for it.)
Junior Band was, well, a typical junior band. That was kind of disappointing, actually, but then again I had a kickass JB. Of course, I had crazy eighth graders that joined in, so the sound was pretty phenomenal for a group that had started the prior fall. I got to hear "The Peanut Song," which is one I came across while teaching. We had this folder filled with miscellaneous beginner tunes by Gerald Sebesky--who wrote "The Peanut Song"--and that was one I kept coming across as I sorted them out one day. They also did "One, Two, Three" and "The Crusaders," which I did at various schools, as well as "Antique Car Parade," which was a recent camp song.
I'd forgotten until a few hours before the concert that it was flute-o-phone night. Joy. And he changed up the fabulous flute-o-phone fable slightly, substituting Walmart for the bakery where Mary gets her hot cross buns. (Basically, Mr. C creates a story out of the nursery rhyme tunes the kids play. It makes the whole thing slightly interesting.) I was intrigued by the harmony in "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," mostly because there's not supposed to be harmony, but it sounded pretty good. Oh, and I still have it--I fingered along the whole time.
Senior Band. The piece de resistance. They're not quite as full as my SB was, but then again there was no tuba nor an Eb contrabass clarinet (and who plays that besides Kris? :P ) Every single song they played was a camp song, including a number of them from just last year. That was nice--I got to hear "Wicked" all the way through, and "Pop Culture" was good. That second one almost made me cry. Mr. C explained that it was full of various 20th-century songs that didn't belong in the same program, much less the same piece. You had the themes from The Flintstones, Scooby-Doo, and James Bond, plus "Wipe-Out" and others. This was the piece that included "Hey, Baby!" That was the song the counselors started singing in the cafeteria during our final dinner last year to try to cheer up the kids; we ended up with virtually everyone doing a conga line. It's a bittersweet memory. But I smiled, and then was confused when the flutes all started raising their stands toward the end...until I realized that the last song was "The Stars and Stripes Forever," and they all had the obbligato. Heh. Also special, my two remaining fourth-grade drummers played traps for "Wicked" and "Pop Culture." When I say my fourth graders were better drummers than I was, these two kids were who I meant. They were pretty amazing as beginners, quickly picking up difficult rhythms, and they haven't slowed down at all. Both of them won the outstanding band member award, along with the "Sorrento" soloist.
After the show, since I was sitting next to the table, I helped pass out the different award trophies. Since there were so few junior kids, instead of handing out perfect attendance awards, they all got "Promoted to Intermediate Band" awards. After Mr. C announced that, I counted the trophies--17 total. Wow. That *is* a small junior band here! However, when it came time for the kids to get their trophies--and trust me, the little ones did not forget--we ran out. Erk. The two older bands have an actual uniform, while the little kids have bright yellow shirts with black pants. They were pretty easy to spot, so I had no trouble handing out their trophies without asking questions, and I doubted that they'd grab more than one. I felt really, really badly for the kids that didn't get their trophies--there were probably half a dozen of them all told. At one point, four of them were standing around me and I had to go, you know, Mr. C can only count to four; anything higher than that, he has trouble. (It's a musician's joke that they're too young to understand.) One of the moms was writing down names to try and remedy the situation. Honestly? He's done that before, just not to that degree. Keep in mind, though, that he does this school by himself. He only had an assistant for a year after he had me, and he's been on his own since. I don't know why. But an assistant would have been able to double-check his numbers...as well as give him a break in conducting, which I'm sure he needed. He's not a small guy. He has knee problems. He ended up having to sit on his director's chair for most of the concert because his knee would have given out otherwise. It makes me wonder how many more years he'll be teaching--his heart will be in it, but his body won't cooperate. Trust me, the man has plenty left to give his students.
Anyway, I ran into former students and others after the show. I mentioned Jerry and the shirt; well, my partner in crime #7 on said shirt was there with a friend. She hadn't yet seen Jerry and ran to find him, then came back and was upset that she's listed as "The Cripple" and not by her name. Honey, we're trying to protect you here. However, she was amused, and she's fully ambulatory again, so that's good. She's trying to be a counselor, but I have no idea who else is in front of her. I also saw Mrs. C, whom I didn't recognize at first; I thought she was a band parent. Gah. There were several people like that who'd come up and start talking to me and I'd have no idea who they were until they mentioned their kid or something like that. It was pretty bad. Anyway, so Mrs. C hadn't realized I was coming, and when she saw me she said it was too bad I had to sit on the side the whole time because there was an open seat next to her. It had been reserved for someone but was never used. Turns out she was right by the traps set, so she had full-on drums for part of the time. Well, if it's any consolation, I had that for most of the show--but at least they weren't facing me.
Normally when we break down the concert set-up, we stack up all the chairs and put them under the stage. Well, this is the school that has been looking to redo their church--ask me about the coffee pot story--and the remodel finally is underway. The gym--ahem, "multipurpose room"--is now the church, so instead of putting away the chairs, we simply turned them to face the stage. We still had to put stands and such away, though. Jerry and Martin were taking down a speaker that had a flag on it, and the flag fell off and apparently beaned Martin in the head. That is classic Martin, by the way. However, Mr. C then said, did I ever tell you guys how I got that flag? Something like 30-35 years ago, when he was just starting out at one of his schools (I'm going to guess the Buffalo Grove school), he had a guy come up to him who said, my niece and nephew are in this band; how can I help you out? Mr. C said, well, I could use a marching flag, so the guy went and got him that flag. The guy's name? John Wayne Gacy. *shudder* Realize Mr. C doesn't lie about this sort of thing...oh, what a creepy tidbit.
Jesus also tried attacking as well. The stuff for the portable altar was in a storage closet, and I went to help Jerry move it out. Somehow we jostled Jesus and he came a-tumblin' down, but he didn't fall all the way down, at least. By the time we started setting up the church, there were maybe a half-dozen of us left. I don't know why I stayed to help, aside from wanting to get a shirt from Jerry, but I did. It took a while and we still didn't finish, but it was in good shape for the morning. The same family that was helping had to come back and help in the morning, so naturally they wanted to get as much done as possible, but it had been a long day--the daughter was a band member, and I wouldn't doubt that one or both parents worked. Anyway, I'm sure they appreciated the help, even if they may not have known who I was. (I did remember the mom. I first recall meeting her at solo contest right before I started teaching. I taught her middle daughter; all three go to camp.)
Finally we finished in the gym as well as putting stuff away upstairs, and around that time the eighth grade gathering in the cafeteria finished, so Jerry and Mr. C and I talked for a little bit before Mr. C left. Then Jerry and I went to his truck so I could get my shirt. He warned me that they ran small, and shrank, so I went with a large. I have yet to try it on, but I have washed it and it doesn't seem too bad.
By the way, Senior Band goes on a field trip each spring. They usually rotate between Milwaukee (where I went), Indianapolis, and Springfield; this year, since they played "Wicked," they're going to see "Wicked." Wicked. :)
Also, on the way home, I saw gas for $3.91. Even though it was like 11:20 at night and I was exhausted, I couldn't pass up the bargain. (Consider now that the cheap gas by me is up to $4.09.) I had issues in getting the handle out, but the lady next to me had the same problem and told me to yank hard while pulling up, and that did the trick. Thanks.
Oh, and since I know you're wondering what it says on the back of the shirt:
I was directly involved in #7 (driving the golf cart) and indirectly in #8 (riding in the "ambulance" while taking #6 to the hospital). I tell you, last year was a blast.