We've been through senior year once before, and to state that it was an emotional roller coaster would be not only a cliche but a drastic understatement. A nine month zip line into pitch darkness would be more like it. However - it was nothing that a few sessions on Dr. Smith's extremely comfy sofa couldn't help cure.
Now, as the Gipper was wont to say, here we go again. My little girl is no longer a little girl, and is forward is pretty much the only healthy direction life can move, forward it is.
Marching band has been a sparkling highlight of our past three autumns. Denise and I tend to arrive about 45 minutes before game time, find seats on the front row next to the band's section at Toyota Stadium and wait for her parents to arrive. We'll talk, maybe sip a drink, maybe enjoy a lollie, share a few laughs, speculate on the outcome of the football game - although, admittedly, we are not there for the game. We get excited when, shortly before game time, the band arrives, 200ish strong and marches around the field toward their seats. Often, they are led by 'Scott County's Biggest Fan,' a young man who is (and I say this with great admiration, Scott County High School's version of Radio. He attends every game, several practices, serves as water boy, cheerleader, assistant coach, band director and all around fun guy).
Most pre-games the band will perform the national anthem and SCHS fight song on the field. The fight song is actually Notre Dame's Victory March - clearly one of the best around. I am not a Notre Dame fan, but hearing that song would bring out the Rudy in anyone; which, naturally, then brings out the Samwise Gamgee in us, and what on earth could be wrong with that? Then, they'll meander their way to their seats (I'm pretty certain this is supposed to happen in an orderly manner, but, well...).
For the next 45 minutes to an hour we endure the 1st half of the football game. Now, all who know me know that I love football. What I don't love is Scott County football. Not because I don't like Scott County football, but because it makes me wait on the band. Sometimes this can be fairly entertaining, and, not much beats sitting outside on a pleasantly crisp fall evening talking with Denise and her parents, or Caleb when he's been able to join us. Buck and I usually cover the pressing topics of baseball pennant races, politics, U of L and UK athletics, etc. Mary catches us up on the latest adventures in the life of Winnie Mae. It's a nice time and it passes quickly.
Then - it's on to the main event. The band takes the field and performs for 12-15 minutes. I am quite sure I am biased beyond belief, but the Scott County marching band is quite good. They've won multiple awards and long ago gave up competing in marching band competitions because, well - they're just better than everyone else, and it's kind of expensive :)
Over the years we've been treated to a wide array of Halloween shows, pouring rain that had us all sardined into SCHS' auditorium for an impromptu (and alarmingly loud) fall concert, and more than a few laughs. I think it was Em's freshman year the sousaphones (or maybe they're tubas, I couldn't tell you the difference if you offered me a small Caribbean island on which to retire with Denise) took a knee at the end of one number. One of the poor girls promptly fell on her back and lay at mid-field flaying her legs in a frantic, and futile attempt to right herself and rejoin her line. Selfishly, I am glad she was not my daughter because I'm sure I could not have given the necessary pep talk that evening with a straight face.
A particular favorite is 'Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight,' which the band often plays & sings with gusto after a score. The 'choreography' of 200 band nerds...er...kids bobbing up and down to this catchy tune is worth the price of admission. Not that I pay admission. I take full advantage of the annual pass I'm given for being a youth minister. One takes what perks one can.
Over the years we've been treated to a wide array of Halloween shows, pouring rain that had us all sardined into SCHS' auditorium for an impromptu (and alarmingly loud) fall concert, and more than a few laughs. I think it was Em's freshman year the sousaphones (or maybe they're tubas, I couldn't tell you the difference if you offered me a small Caribbean island on which to retire with Denise) took a knee at the end of one number. One of the poor girls promptly fell on her back and lay at mid-field flaying her legs in a frantic, and futile attempt to right herself and rejoin her line. Selfishly, I am glad she was not my daughter because I'm sure I could not have given the necessary pep talk that evening with a straight face.
A particular favorite is 'Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight,' which the band often plays & sings with gusto after a score. The 'choreography' of 200 band nerds...er...kids bobbing up and down to this catchy tune is worth the price of admission. Not that I pay admission. I take full advantage of the annual pass I'm given for being a youth minister. One takes what perks one can.
This year the half time show again includes Gustav Holts' Mars and Jupiter, along with a John Williams Star Wars medley. Of course, I find a bit of irony listening to 'the bringer of Jolity' standing next to a man whose father answered to 'Jolly,' while laughing right out loud as he determinedly seeks the best angle for taking pictures of 'Emmo.' To be clear - I am not laughing at Buck! I am very much enjoying his passion for his grandchildren. I dare you not to laugh with that.
We are down to 3 games now. And, yes, I am sad. Throughout this delightful ride, Emily has insisted that I not volunteer as a 'band mom,' helping serve snacks and drinks at band camp, Thursday night marching practice or games. I've been forbidden from band trips to Chicago and New York. I am not allowed to help load or unload the bus. Given that I am also Em's youth minister, she stakes a claim to band as the one parent free corner of her life. I have begrudgingly cooperated.
But, the first game of this season when we received an email plea for parents of seniors to help with drinks & snacks Emily relented. One game. That's it. Make it count. I don't recall enjoying clicking 'send' on many more emails.
I nearly missed out on serving drinks as the band took their seats after the pregame show. I was distracted by a conversation with Buck and chuckling at the football team 'patiently' waiting for the band to clear the field for them. I managed to distribute a few bottles of water and happily went back to my seat.
I was quite prompt for half time and with oceans of pride helped line up the coolers, crack open boxes of snacks and introduced myself to a handful of dads who obviously were not newbs. Given their impeccable organization, I'm pretty sure they do this every week. They were more than gracious and welcomed a hand.
Soon the secluded corner at the north end of the home bleachers was crammed full of sweaty, high school kids all talking at the same time about who knows what, dressed in their matching blue t-shirts, jeans and shiny black shoes.
I beamed as I passed out my granola bars. They lasted all of 2 minutes as several kids grabbed 3-4 at a time like they'd just crawled out of the desert desperate for food and drink. I greeted dozens of band members including several from our student ministry and hustled about dumping ice out of coolers as they emptied, replacing them in the back of a nearby pickup. Denise, Buck and Mary gathered across the drive with Emily, who'd managed fleeting eye contact as she passed through the OTHER line. The four of them enjoyed me enjoying myself. They snapped pictures and laughed at the dopey smile that caked my face. It only made me love it more! I'm pretty sure a good part of the coming kingdom will include serving food and drink to band kids.
And then, it was over. O.V.E.R. Done. Finished.
That was it. My one time as a band mom. I couldn't have enjoyed it more!
We are down to 3 games now. And, yes, I am sad. Throughout this delightful ride, Emily has insisted that I not volunteer as a 'band mom,' helping serve snacks and drinks at band camp, Thursday night marching practice or games. I've been forbidden from band trips to Chicago and New York. I am not allowed to help load or unload the bus. Given that I am also Em's youth minister, she stakes a claim to band as the one parent free corner of her life. I have begrudgingly cooperated.
But, the first game of this season when we received an email plea for parents of seniors to help with drinks & snacks Emily relented. One game. That's it. Make it count. I don't recall enjoying clicking 'send' on many more emails.
I nearly missed out on serving drinks as the band took their seats after the pregame show. I was distracted by a conversation with Buck and chuckling at the football team 'patiently' waiting for the band to clear the field for them. I managed to distribute a few bottles of water and happily went back to my seat.
I was quite prompt for half time and with oceans of pride helped line up the coolers, crack open boxes of snacks and introduced myself to a handful of dads who obviously were not newbs. Given their impeccable organization, I'm pretty sure they do this every week. They were more than gracious and welcomed a hand.
Soon the secluded corner at the north end of the home bleachers was crammed full of sweaty, high school kids all talking at the same time about who knows what, dressed in their matching blue t-shirts, jeans and shiny black shoes.
I beamed as I passed out my granola bars. They lasted all of 2 minutes as several kids grabbed 3-4 at a time like they'd just crawled out of the desert desperate for food and drink. I greeted dozens of band members including several from our student ministry and hustled about dumping ice out of coolers as they emptied, replacing them in the back of a nearby pickup. Denise, Buck and Mary gathered across the drive with Emily, who'd managed fleeting eye contact as she passed through the OTHER line. The four of them enjoyed me enjoying myself. They snapped pictures and laughed at the dopey smile that caked my face. It only made me love it more! I'm pretty sure a good part of the coming kingdom will include serving food and drink to band kids.
And then, it was over. O.V.E.R. Done. Finished.
That was it. My one time as a band mom. I couldn't have enjoyed it more!
Love this post - especially since we are now "band parents," with our Josh a freshman in drumline. Waiting on a new post, with any recent family news?
ReplyDelete