With the 4th of July coming up I was thinking about marching band. Believe it or not (not hard to believe), I was in band almost all four years of high school. I played trumpet and was not all that bad when I tried, which was not often. But the thing I hated the most about being in band was marching band.
You were given no choice if you were in band you were forced to be in marching band. My high school marching band was dubbed the “Nicolet Marching Q-tips”, because we had to wear these giant wool white hats that resembled a Q-tip.
Plus the heavy, baby blue and white (it was a wimpy school) poly - wool uniforms were not flattering in the least bit. It would bind in the crotch when you did a high step, which made it easy to hit the high notes, but difficult to take the next step... Or the next step. For the most part, I just pretended to play as I morosely trudged thru the moves. All the while, being careful not to castrate myself.
My other big issue to the marching band issue was I that I was also on the football team. I was totally devastated to not make varsity squad my freshman year (again, wimpy school) but I was sure I would make the squad as soon as someone got injured. Just a matter of time. But in the meantime I was more depressed that I had to be in marching band.
All preseason I had to play on the JV squad and then play in the god forsaken marching band during the Friday night games. Which also meant practicing with the marching band.
Because I was larger than most of the band nerds (not hard to do, but I was 5'10” and 160 my freshman year) Mr. White (his actual name) asked me to play the freakin tuba.
The tuba had similar scale and fingering as the trumpet so I quickly caught on, plus I had to move less and be the “pin” on maneuvers when we played. But that damn thing was heavy. Still the band played on.
I knew, in my heart, that someone would be injured on varsity sooner or later. Truth be told we were more of a “country club sport” kind of a high school. We excelled at golf, swimming and tennis and of course debate and chess. The majority of the team was undersized Jewish kids or stoners that were on the team to get chicks (except the chicks were not impressed).
We one a single game in 4 years. How we won that one was a mystery.
But we had a great stand cheer that the students would let go when we were down by 40 or more points (every game but one) “That's alright, that's OK. We are gonna be your boss one day”.
Anyway, back to marching band.
The first game was about to be played and I was begging Mr. White to keep me out of uniform because I knew I was next up to go to varsity when someone got injured.
He said “you are on marching band and I need you to preform here. If you were to make the football squad we will cross that bridge when it arrives.”.... dick.
So the first game arrives and we are dressed in full Q-tip regalia on a 90 degree day.
So, do you have any idea what a bunch of sweaty band nerds dressed in poly-wool smell like?
Not good.
The Q-tips were playing “Come On Feel The Noise” in the stands, while the football team was getting creamed. Early in the second quarter Kyle Selak broke his leg and I was giddy with excitement! Not that I wanted him to get injured. But, I knew I was two behind him on the pecking order as a middle line backer (that's right, a 160 pound line backer). Which meant that I might get a nod from our senile football coach Grip.
Sure enough, while we were playing a rousing rendition of “Rock Around the Clock” coach Grip wandered aimlessly into the stands to find Mr. White. They spoke for a while and Mr. White pointed to me, while Grip pointed a a girl playing the flute and said “EDDIE STAPLETON GO SUIT UP!”
