Today I took the oldest girls and went to see a marching band competition. It was awesome! The biggest bands marched at the end. They marched in excellent formations with incredible power. I was just full of nostalgia. The polyester uniforms. The bad hair from sweating underneath the hats. (The not so secret crush on the percussion player) I found my little feet moving back and forth in sync with the downbeat. Incredible!
I am a band geek from way back. I went to band camp and everything. It shouldn't surprise anyone who has heard me whistle, that I played the flute, and the piccolo. One year, I even played the trumpet. There were too many flutes that year, so my friend Heather and I volunteered to switch and play the trumpet. It is fairly generous of me to say we "played". In truth, while everybody else was playing jazzy runs and pumping out there soul into the hearty melody of the Mexican Hat dance, Heather and I belted out the only note we knew with style. The guys called us "Johnny One Note".
For a while, I thought it was a curse my parents made me stay in band. Now I am grateful to them. I got to be part of a team and despite genetic weakness, I got rythm. I love music! I may not march in formation anymore, but I still march. I am the leader of the music march of little girls in the kitchen of our home on Saturday mornings.
do i even remember how this works?!
9 years ago
