Wednesday night, elections for the student officers were held.
"Okay, here's what we do:" said Eric while hanging around in our cabin that morning before breakfast. "We know the drummers are going to set up a voting block. They always do. And I don't know about you, but I don't want drummers to win this completely pointless power struggle again." Molly, Bonnie and I laughed a little, but Eric, charactaristically, kept a straight face. It really is a pointless power struggle. No one is quite sure what the student officers even do. We're pretty sure it's write thankyou notes and start phone chains. "So I suggest that we, the brass section, do the same thing."
"What, set up a voting block?"
"Yes. Only one brass player runs for each office, and all other brass players vote for them."
"Okay," I said. "Who's our choice for president?"
"Um... Smitty?"
"He's not eligable. He's running it."
"Oh yeah."
"...I think our best choice might be you," I said after a while.
He laughed. Eric's laugh is a flat sort of "heh heh heh," and although it's convincing, one gets the impression that it is always intentional. "It's really sad that I'm the best we have."
"Ok, so maybe we'll let Natalie have president. But I'll tell you what - I'll nominate you for something if you'll nominate me."
"Alright," he said seriously. "Sounds like a deal." (At this point, Cassandra walked in and said, "Jesus Eric, why don't you just get your stuff and move in since you're here like every day.")
After sectionals, we all went to the dining hall. They fed us icecream and I listened to Eric talk about how he, Alice, and Liz once named all of the fish in the biology fish tank after band kids. "Yeah, so there was one that had a lucky fin, and that was me because I had a lucky fin at the time, ooh, and the big fat one, Brett, died like the day after Brett got kicked out of the band... Ooh, ooh, and the little awkward one, Mike, was always chasing after the one that was Sarah, and Sarah was always swimming away - oh, hey Sarah - oh my God, it was so accurate..."
"Dude, you're totally making this up."
"I am not! That little awkward one was totally MiniJay." (This is Mike the nerdy freshman's nickname, since he and Jay play the same instrument and do look somewhat alike. Jay is insulted.)
Eric didn't have time to make fun of all the band members before Smitty announced that elections were starting. There are four positions - president, vice president, treasurer, and secretary. There is no limit to how many people can be nominated, but you have to have been in the band for at least two years already and you can't nominate yourself. Each candidate makes a speech. The point of the speech is usually to be as funny as possible. After speeches, the candidates are escorted into the kitchen and the band votes. (Heads down, no peeking.) Smitty explained this and then asked for nominees for president. Natalie ran uncontested - even the drummers entered into the unspoken agreement that she deserved it.
VP was a little more interesting. The nominations didn't seem to end. (I cringed a little at Valerie's tone of voice as she nominated Adam.) Our brass voting block totally went out the window. I believe there were eight candidates by the time Smitty said "Okay, okay, we're done. This is not California." After all of the speeches, which took long enough to begin with, Smitty insisted upon conducting the voting like this:
"If you would like to vote...
For Big D...
My main man...
The one...
The only...
Devin...
In the 2005...
2006...
Marching Band...
Election...
For vice presidente...
Raise your hand...
Not now...
Not now...
...NNNow."
Noah ended up winning, as it was obvious that he would. He gave the following acceptance speech. "Thank you. I don't know what the vice president does... I'm pretty sure it's nothing. But I promise to do that very well!" (The drummers all pounded on their table and cheered.)
At this point, Eric elbowed me and said, "Get me in for treasurer and I'll get you in for secretary." I nodded and nominated him as soon as I could. He gave a speech promising to provide plenty of his mother's delicious muffins (normally referred to as crack muffins - inside joke) which got lots of laughs and applause but didn't get him elected, mostly because Amy the clarinet gave a serious, rather heartstring-tugging speech about how important band was to her and how much she wanted to make a contribution to it. She got elected, and Eric came back to the table looking happy for her, although reluctantly so.
The first person nominated for secretary was Shultz. Then Natalie nominated Jay. Then Eric nominated me. Then Rob nominated Brett. Then, interestingly enough, Alice nominated Eric. (Molly was visibly exasperated about the failure of the brass voting block.) He looked confused for a few seconds, and then accepted. This is when I started to get nervous, because I realized that I had absolutely no plan for a speech. Strangely enough though, as soon as Smitty handed me the mike, all the nervousness went away.
"Hi," I said. "I'm Aidan."
("Hi Aidan!" said Alice and Natalie from the back of the dining hall.)
"Hi.
This is my third year in the band. I am the biggest band geek ever. I start getting excited about band camp in like, January..." Greg cheered. "...I know every instrument joke there is..." A few people laughed, because this is true. "I also think I might have a proposition which is better than Eric's proposition. If elected, I might be able to get my mom not to be in your face taking pictures, or at least to stop saying stupid things to get you to smile." Several people looked as if they aprecciated this proposition. "I also think that as secretary, I will be good at writing things down." I looked at Eric. "You know - with all of the letters in all the right places..."
There was a pause, and then the audience exploded into laughter. Eric's jaw dropped and he jabbed his finger at me, trying to get over the noise. Smitty came up to me and took the microphone. "Alright, are you done?"
"I think I've said enough," I said into the mike.
Eric pretended to be mad at me until we walked into the kitchen, where he gave me a high five and said, "That was the best speech in recent band camp history."
We came back out. "The winner..."
"Of the election...
For secretary...
Of the 2005 2006 marching band...
Is the one...
The only...
The lovely Aidan O'Connor!"
I was genuinely shocked. I figured Jay had it in the bag. All I could say when Smiitty handed me the mike was "Um... thanks!" After I sat down, Matt the assistant director said, "Hey, congratulations. I was hoping somebody would nominate you."
That's when it hit me:
I am an honest-to-God leader now.
Not "someday." Not "next year." Now. What's more, Lydia played trombone, and was the secretary before I was. I used to think that Lydia was the coolest person ever. Now I am essentially her. And somehow, this led me to some sort of revelation, and I thought:
"I think I am going to try out for drum major next year."
"Congratulations officers, and thank you to everyone who ran," said Mr. Thomas at the end. "And... thank you to Steve Smith for turning a twenty minute election into a ninety minute ordeal," he added.
"No problemo," said Smitty.
That night, all of the girls in the horn line sat on the porch of our cabin in our pajamas talking and watching the raging thunder and lightening storm going on around us. At one point, a large gray cat showed up out of the rain and curled up on Amy's lap. We all laughed. She shrugged and scratched it behind the ears. We reminisced about middle school and other things that have happened at band camp until about two in the morning, and I really did not want to go to bed, and I really did not want to go home the next day.
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