Seventy-Six Trombones*

To be honest, I don't remember a lot about my freshman year of high school. I didn't go to any dances that year that I remember, and I was not involved in drama club until my sophomore year, and I think what I did was spend a lot of time at home reading. (I think the terror of junior high needed a year from which to recover because it was so awful).

I remember few details about the year; reading Animal Farm, The Butterfly Revolution (both of which I hated) and Romeo and Juliet (my real introduction to Shakespeare, and I enjoyed it very much) in English, drawing like mad in Art, that blasted ink drawing that took me forever and a day to finish, the map project thing at Alcove Spring, bits and pieces of computers class, and marching band. Everything else is out of my memory--or at least so buried that it would take a lot of thinking/asking around to bring it to the surface. I don't think I kept a journal at all that year and I wish I had so that I could have something to reference from.

Anyway, I didn't actually realize this fully until today before the lunch shift, when Sara and I were talking about marching band and I was telling her all the stuff I loved and hated about it during the two years I was a part of it.

My band teacher's crazy bipolar/out of control temper (and the fact that he was the reason I gave up band for Art) aside, I loved marching band. There was something about the sound**, the horns mixed with the drumline, the cadences, the hats, the everything that made it worth my while. To walk out onto the field, the lights bright in the halftime twilight...To this day, I love watching the marching band at any high school/college football games.

I did remember one little detail today that I had forgotten about. Since band was the first class of the day, we were to meet out on the practice field and be ready to start at the beginning of class. Since marching band took place in the fall, the sun would rise later and later as the semester progressed. When we'd get to the other side of the track where the field was located, everything seemed gray, ethereal, with a kind of fog some mornings. As the sun creeped over the hill that towered over the east side of the field, the grass would "grow" greener and the fog absorbed into nothing, the shadow retreating into the base of the hill. In the space of one hour, we were illuminated.

Perhaps it's a little over the top, but it always made my day. The simple things in life, you know?

*Have you seen "The Music Man" (the 1962 version)? If not, you should. Right now.

**Which explains part of the reason that my favorite Glee cover to this day is this song, because, you know, Kurt and Mercedes rock it out and they have the WMHS marching band to accompany them. Such a great version.