I am job.
Okay, so of what shall I write? I have been un peu preoccupado … basically since all of July… and, enfin, I can’t blog about everything. So!
This is like an awkward date after trying to do long-distance. Pass the olives, please. <chewing sounds> Did you see the – oh, I’m sorry, what were you going to say? <sipping sound as ice clinks against my water glass> <self-consciously wipe what feels like cold perspiration from my top lip> How’s your mother? …
That oughta help. Man, I miss marching band. I know my college experience would have been entirely different in completely unknown ways had I gone to a school with a marching band*. But I sure wish my m.b. life hadn’t ended so abruptly. If you’ve never been part of a marching band or competed immediately after disembarking a loud, crowded bus road trip or practice in a tight circle with steam wafting off of gleaming instruments in the frosty night or won first place in your division for percussion, drum major and band (which, let’s be real, only happened freshman year as I recall)…. you just couldn’t imagine.
This is why the words “band geek” don’t offend band members. It’s like someone trying to poke fun at you for being pretty. Um. Thank you? I get that stereotypes are easy and give people the feeling that they know what they’re talking about – but who would trade being in band?! Clearly not those of us who signed up for it all, including summer band camp every year and spent hours in our 100% wool uniforms doing march-a-thon fundraisers and parades in Carmichael, California. And pep band, concert band, wind ensemble. Who was more involved in school spirit than those of us who know the fight song by heart. (As in lyrics and music.)
I seriously miss marching band.
*Honest: I almost applied to U of Oregon on the sole basis that their fight song was “Mighty Oregon”. Which is exactly the fight song of my CALIFORNIA high school.