Hello, all. I'm back and I know I haven't updated my "You Know you're in band when…" List for a while. So guess what I'm up to today and for the rest of the summer? BAND! :D I am super, super, super happy. If band wasn't consisted in my summer, I would DIE of bordem.
This story is about my times in drumline/pit and band camp 2012. It's going to be one hell of a story just because it's band.
For the sake of people at my school, I'm not going to use anyone's last name. I'll use the first initial, but not the full last name. I don't need 100 other students running after me with a bass drum mallet for posting their names on the internet.
We'll start with last week's drumline practice. (6/12/12) Here we go! ~Tenuto07
2012 Marching Season and Band Camp
Show: Lunar Phases
Drumline practice, 6/12
When around 100 of your family members come together to play instruments, its lots of serious work, but yet it's fun. When you spend time with your beloved section, it's more serious work, but it's even more fun. Today, I stand with the Charger drumline.
I walked into the band room after our instructor, John opened it. My best friend, Sam, and I have been sitting in the band hallway for an hour, feasting on puppy chow and Pocky. (For those of you who don't know what Pocky is, google it and eat some!)
"Hey, John," I said when he opened the door. Sam says the same and he greets us back. When the door opens, Sam and I pick up our bags and head inside. There's an extremely strict "no eating in the band room" rule that we used to not follow, but since Mr. W, our band director, forces us to vacuum, we quit. Sam and I start forking down our Pocky.
I'm not in drumline. In fact, I'm pit section leader. Do I need to be here at a drumline meeting? No, but it makes my day more interesting and I need something to do over the summer. John's okay with it too, so I don't mind hanging out with a few drummers.
I help Sam take out bass 3. The rest of the drumline starts coming in. Soon, we're all set up. From left to right, there's my other best friend, Jeremy on tenor, Nick on snare, Alex on snare, Brandon on bass 1, Marie on 2, Sam on 3, and Ben on 4. I walk across the room and isolate myself in the percussion corner. The xylophone in front of me, the marimba to my right, the glockenspiel to the left and everything else with a wall behind me creates a barrier between me and the drummers.
It was our typical practice. John starts talking about how we have to go to Relay for Life. It's about finding a cure to cancer. The line got a reputation and wants us to play. Mr. W wants me on cymbals. "We'll do the old, old cadence," John says. That's how we know what cadence to play. The 2012 cadence is called the new cadence, last year's is the middle aged cadence, and 2010's is called the old, old cadence. I'm only a sophomore, so I don't know it; neither does Brandon, Ben, or Marie.
"Hey, John, Mr. W said I could play cymbals," I said to him. He turns around from his snare drum.
"Yeah, that's fine. In fact, let's have everyone who doesn't know the cadence on cymbals." John fixed us another pair of cymbals after an accident last year when the handles fell off. Ben, Marie, and I all had a pair in our hands. "For Relay for Life, we're going to play the old, old cadence, Aspen Taps, and Funkengruven."
Funkengruven and Aspen Taps were part of our warm ups. Funkengruven was written by our old instructor, Mike. He was very annoying and wrote music for college levels and expected us to know it in an hour. Last year, he gave us the music for part 1 and 2 the day of the first competition. No, that competition didn't go well. Our show was very pit heavy.
We play through the songs and eventually have a break. Sam wanted more of the puppy chow I brought for us, so I took the box out of my locker and we walked to the other end of the band room. "No eating in the band room, Emily!" Sam said.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Here, let's eat outside," I open the set of doors by Mr. W's office. Brandon joins us after a while and we sit there at eat puppy chow until John walks to the center of the room with a giant box. I put the puppy chow back and the three of us make it back to the middle.
"Let's have a vote," John said while setting the box down. "For Relay for Life, we need outfits. I know Mr. W suggested your pep band shirts." Our pep band shirts were black and long-sleeved. Mine has a giant hole in the center from playing the cymbals incorrectly. "Who wants to wear the pep band shirts?"
"As opposed to what?" Nick asked while looking at the box.
"Wear black socks, marching shoes, a white collard dress shirt with red ties, a pinstripe vest, and a fedora." That sounded really neat.
"No, can't we stick to a simple outfit?" Sam asked. Nobody heard her while they were digging through the box. With five of the nine of us there being boys, Sam lost.
"It's alright, Sam, the outfit won't be horrible," I assured her. It was already around 8pm, the time when we clean up and call it a day.
"Okay, guys, you can pack up now," John said while looking through some music. "Be sure to be here at 5:30 on Friday for Relay for Life." I helped the line pack up and Brandon and I headed out the door. Sam's mom comes early to pick her up, so she always leaves on time. I, however, call when I'm done. I don't mind spending extra time with the line. Once outside, Alex, Jeremy, Brandon and I are standing outside talking to one another.
"Here," I say to Jeremy while handing the Tupperware full of puppy chow to him. He doesn't really eat anything, so I end up making food for him a lot. Jeremy smiles and says,
"Thanks." With that, he takes the box and gets into the passenger seat of his mother's car. Alex leaves around the same time.
One of my old friends, Breanna, is standing right next to Brandon. She's an extremely hyper girl who annoys most people. "Hey, Emily!" she says enthusiastically.
"Hi," I say and we have a somewhat decent conversation. Brandon and I quickly back towards the door when we hear rim shots being played by John. "Quick!" I whisper as Brandon and I run away from Breanna. She was starting to get on my nerves.
"Hey, do you guys want a Frisbee? It's in the trash." John says as I quickly lean over the empty trash bin and I see a black snare head. I pull it out. He was replacing Nick's old snare head.
"Does it actually work as a Frisbee?" I ask John, but he didn't hear me.
"Let's test it!" Brandon says with excitement as I toss it to him. To my surprise, it works better than any other Frisbee I've ever used. Brandon threw it at me and accidentally hit a drum stand.
"Be careful you don't break anything," John says while he lifts his hand. I toss the drum head to him and he tosses it back to Brandon. After a few minutes, he says, "Okay, let's take this outside."
Brandon and I head outside when Nick takes off in his own car. John walks to his car and Brandon and I wave him goodbye.
When I call my parents to come, nobody picks up. I call my mom's cell phone. Nothing. I call my dad's. Nothing. I remembered my cousin was over, so I dialed her number. To my surprise, my older sister picked up. She doesn't live with me anymore, so I guess she paid my parent's a visit.
When she came with the rest of her friends, I got in the car to go have a nice, relaxing night.