The Life of a Band Nerd

Drag Racing with a Mute Band Director

Ok, I know I've been slacking off about reporting about Small School. So, I'm finally going to tell you how it went.
I wasn't as nervous as I thought I was going to be, which was good. It took about an hour to get there due to traffic (we had to drive to our state capital). When we got there, we found our section and arranged ourselves by parts. There were about 19 to 20 trumpets, the most of any instrument. We were placed on the back row, and since I played either second or third part on everything, I was the furthest trumpet player on the inside, sitting right beside the tubas and in front of the percussion. When the percussion was setting up, someone knocked over a rack of chimes right behind me. It sounded like a concerto of dying baby birds.
Well, after getting past the chaos of setting up, the instructor/director stepped up to the podium and hit his conducting stick on the stand to get our attention. He held up a sign that said B-flat (Bb). Then, he gave us a downbeat, we played weakly, he cut us off, and motioned for the trumpets to blow faster air through our horns. I turned to a trumpet from our school--let's call her Jazz--and said,"Can this guy talk?" Jazz shrugged.
  Well, we managed to get through a really cool Bb scale without our director talking at all. Finally, he said,"Ok, before you guys start worrying, I do have a voice. I just didn't want to use it for the scale because it seems like every band director just launches into talking as soon as they step onto the podium."  He was a very interesting instructor.
  Well, we sat and played over our four songs for about six hours with 5-10 minute breaks about every thirty minutes to an hour. At one point, a whole lot of people from our school gathered down on the floor of the gym during one of the breaks and started playing 25 or 6 to 4 by Chicago. Everyone was watching us. I didn't play because I never learned it since I joined advanced band late. Then, at another break, some tuba players from a different school started playing Seven Nation Army and were surprised/thrilled when I joined in with the lyric parts.
  At another break, Mom came over and started talking to Jazz while rifling through her sheet music. Gerald*, who was sitting next to me, had grabbed the straight mute that I had been using for Joy and starting tossing it in the air. Well, I had got annoyed by this so the next time he tossed it, I tried to grab it out of the air. Well, that didn't work because I hit it wrong and it flew and hit a tuba sitting on the floor next to me, the owner of the tuba seeing what happened. Mom gave me a wide-eyed look and I was like,"I didn't mean to!" So, the tuba player picks up my straight mute and sticks it down the bell of his tuba. "Dude,"I said. "Last year we had to take a tuba apart because they got a straight mute stuck in the bell." He ended up giving it back to me.
  We ended up giving the final concert for the school at around 2:30-3:00 (their school goes later than average). It went well. A percussionist had a very honorable solo. He played.....*drumroll*

...the iPad.
Yep, that's right folks! When the director announced it, I could see someone in the audience go,"Darn it! I wanted to play that!" We needed the iPad for background music for The Machine Awakes.
  Also, in the five minutes that we had before we started playing the final concert, the instructor, who was wearing a black t-shirt, disappeared. He reappeared 3-5 minutes later wearing a purple suit, dress pants, and a tie! Jazz was like,"What the heck!? How can anyone change that fast!?" I agreed with her.
  On the way home, our bus started having trouble. I think there was some watery fuel in the gas tank. The bus kept going real slow and lagging. At one point, we pulled over at a gas station (go figure) which sold alcohol. Someone was like,"Let me off! I need me some of that!"
  Well, we started driving down the two or three lane road again when we had to pull over. Well, we pulled over right next to a 45 mile an hour speed limit sign. The bus driver started revving the engine to flush the fuel out.
"We're getting ready to drag race, boys!" Someone said.
"Gerald's truck could beat this bus!" Another said.
"Here we go! We're off to the races!" Another person pretty much said.
"The sign is winning!" The Kidnapper said, voicing my thoughts. "It's going 45 miles an hour!"
"That's just a suggestion!" Jaws yelled.
"The sign is going 45.5 or 46 miles an hour," Gerald* said. "#Thuglife."
"Hey! That minivan passed us!" someone said.
"The clouds are passing us!" Someone else said.
"So is the grass!" Replied another.
"The grass isn't moving!" Someone objected.
"Yes it is!" I said. "The wind is moving it!"

  So, this pretty much went on until we got back onto the road. Then, the bus started lagging again but we kept going and just kind of ignored it. At one point, it started bouncing. Except, there was a rhythm to its bouncing. So what to band kids do? We sing to the rhythm, of course. Pretty much everyone on the bus starting sing-yelling the instrumental version of Brick House. So...yeah. That's pretty much how SSBF went...
Sorry about the long post XD. That's why I postponed it for the weekend.

* names have been changed.