Marching Band
This is a tribute to band. I will probably add more entries about band, as it's a subject that you could try forever to describe, yet never quite accomplish that goal.
Our football score from Friday: 6 to 24. As sad as that score is, that isn't the worst part. We actually LOST two points!!
Yesterday was my first band competition. Yay!
After three hours of marching around, we got to break for lunch. Lunch is a term used loosely, considering my best friend had a horrible thing known as a "walking taco" but I digress.
Anyway, when lunch was over, a friend of mine that has graduated arrived, much to my joyful excitement. We spent quite a while talking about the good old days of my freshman year.
One such memory is being on the road through Georgia, listening to a boy sing "Sweet Home Alabama". That wasn't the wonderful part. The wonderful part was when someone else shouted "We're in Georgia!"
Of course, the splendor of Disney World was multiplied when a percussionist called out to my band director "Why does Florida look like Michigan? Where are the palm trees?!" Needless to say, she got quite the response.
However, being on the road for twenty two hours tends to wreak havoc on a young child's brain. So, when the assistant director announced that we would be having breakfast with Mickey Mouse, who was to be wearing a "special suit", I quickly jumped on the chance. "He's going to wear a speedo!" I cried excitedly.
I was wrong of course, but that did nothing to dwindle the experience.
Epcot was by far the greatest. Pocky, sweet, wonderful pocky. Need I say more? Unfortunately, I'm not the only one that enjoys it. The seagulls that attacked us were so dense in the sky, the sun was blocked out. A sheer sign of our doom, I assure you.
Did I mention having to buy a toothbrush in a gas station? Ah, how I wish for the glory days.
Tag day, for those that know what it is, had but one memory for me. The attack pigeon! Yes, pigeon. Upon ringing the doorbell, my friend Chasity and I were ambushed by a pigeon. Our screams rang through the neighborhood that day.
I could spend all eternity ranting about band, but I won't. (Because that's a very long time)
The end of the competition yesterday was wonderful. It was our invitational, so we had to stand on the side of the field for the award ceremony.
Which was bad, until I noticed the bands from the corner of my eye. "What are they doing?" I asked in a hissed voice, causing others to look around as well.
The bands, that were supposed to be serious, had started a wave. Much like the wave performed at baseball games, this was horrifying, and it was far from organized.
They had many different versions of the wave. It began as a normal wave, passing through the crowd from end to end repeatedly. And slowly, so very slowly, it began to transform. "Whoo!" was added next. Then they tried different patterns. One end would start, then the other. When they grew tired of that, the wave began in the center and spread to each end. Again, as they grew bored, the pattern changed. A wave in slow motion this time! What a feat!
Yes, band is a very serious thing.
Our football score from Friday: 6 to 24. As sad as that score is, that isn't the worst part. We actually LOST two points!!
Yesterday was my first band competition. Yay!
After three hours of marching around, we got to break for lunch. Lunch is a term used loosely, considering my best friend had a horrible thing known as a "walking taco" but I digress.
Anyway, when lunch was over, a friend of mine that has graduated arrived, much to my joyful excitement. We spent quite a while talking about the good old days of my freshman year.
One such memory is being on the road through Georgia, listening to a boy sing "Sweet Home Alabama". That wasn't the wonderful part. The wonderful part was when someone else shouted "We're in Georgia!"
Of course, the splendor of Disney World was multiplied when a percussionist called out to my band director "Why does Florida look like Michigan? Where are the palm trees?!" Needless to say, she got quite the response.
However, being on the road for twenty two hours tends to wreak havoc on a young child's brain. So, when the assistant director announced that we would be having breakfast with Mickey Mouse, who was to be wearing a "special suit", I quickly jumped on the chance. "He's going to wear a speedo!" I cried excitedly.
I was wrong of course, but that did nothing to dwindle the experience.
Epcot was by far the greatest. Pocky, sweet, wonderful pocky. Need I say more? Unfortunately, I'm not the only one that enjoys it. The seagulls that attacked us were so dense in the sky, the sun was blocked out. A sheer sign of our doom, I assure you.
Did I mention having to buy a toothbrush in a gas station? Ah, how I wish for the glory days.
Tag day, for those that know what it is, had but one memory for me. The attack pigeon! Yes, pigeon. Upon ringing the doorbell, my friend Chasity and I were ambushed by a pigeon. Our screams rang through the neighborhood that day.
I could spend all eternity ranting about band, but I won't. (Because that's a very long time)
The end of the competition yesterday was wonderful. It was our invitational, so we had to stand on the side of the field for the award ceremony.
Which was bad, until I noticed the bands from the corner of my eye. "What are they doing?" I asked in a hissed voice, causing others to look around as well.
The bands, that were supposed to be serious, had started a wave. Much like the wave performed at baseball games, this was horrifying, and it was far from organized.
They had many different versions of the wave. It began as a normal wave, passing through the crowd from end to end repeatedly. And slowly, so very slowly, it began to transform. "Whoo!" was added next. Then they tried different patterns. One end would start, then the other. When they grew tired of that, the wave began in the center and spread to each end. Again, as they grew bored, the pattern changed. A wave in slow motion this time! What a feat!
Yes, band is a very serious thing.