Band Camp, Day One - 9/3/2006 in 2005 - 2007: High School

Jesus Christ do I have a lot to write about. And Jesus Christ is it good to be home.

Monday we left for band camp. We took some pictures and heard some speeches and then we got onto the busses, where Schultz carried on such band traditions as pretending that we are on a roller coaster at that really big hill, and playing intentionally terrible music through crappy speakers. We moved into cabins. Mine ended up being with Molly, Bonnie, Sarah, Laura Euphonium, and an immature obnoxious flutist named Ally. Ally was the only real problem. Although Sarah is kind of obnoxious, after rooming with her for four years in a row I've pretty much just gotten used to her. Besides that, she's mellowed out a little since she started dating a geeky snare player named Danny, and she is a reliable supply of food, legal drugs, and anything else you might need. She slept on the floor. She claims she's more comfortable that way since she went on tour with her drum corps.

Anyway, we had drill. I led warmups. Schultz and Eric were in the middle with me, but they let me call out the names of stretches, and they let me lead arm circles. This is really the first instance in which I was hit in the face by the fact that I am a senior, and assistant drum major. Not just because I was telling people what to do - I am one of the better people in the band at arm circles now. I didn't used to be able to do arm circles all the way through, but now they're not even difficult. A lot of the rookies gave up halfway through, and the ones who didn't held their arms at weird angles and were in obvious pain. I used to wonder how the seniors did it so effortlessly, and now I do it effortlessly.

"It was weird to be in the middle, wasn't it?" said Schultz to me after stretches were over

"Yeah," I said. "Really weird."

The show is easy enough so that we played through all of it at the first sectionals. I decided that I do not like the show. It is very poppy and gimicky. None of it is pretty. None of it is cool. None of it is even interesting to play. What are we even going to do during sectionals for the rest of the year? I thought. I suppose we work on making it more musical, since it wasn't very. But I feel like there's not even much oppurtunity to make it musical. I really had no desire to play with feeling. It was so cool when we did Chicago and Latin jazz. That was real music. Good music. What the fuck was Mr. Thomas thinking?

Toward the end of practice, I turned around and saw Eric standing on a chair behind the arc, at the back of the dark, hollow room, watching Mr. Thomas conduct and conducting along with him. His eyes were wide. He looked a little afraid. But he kept standing up there and conducting, rather passionately. It looked like an excited kind of fear. It was beautiful, somehow. I was so mesmerized by him that I missed the point in the music where I stop playing my fucking E flat. After we finished playing, Mr. Thomas called him up and had him conduct for real. He started to count off.

"No no," said Mr. Thomas to him. "Stand by..."

"Oh. Stand by," said Eric. We did.

"Band ten hut!"

"HUT!"

There was a slight delay, and then Eric grinned from ear to ear so noticably that we all laughed. "Nice feeling, isn't it?" said Mr. Thomas. Eric nodded and we laughed again.

He caught up with me after practice. "So, I was talking to Mr. Thomas, and it turns out I don't have a feature," he said.

"What? You definately - he told you that?"

"Yeah. I don't have a feature. I guess you still could be conducting, but I would just have to be marching. Which... I mean, I was all for you conducting, but that's just kind of dumb."

"Yeah, it is kind of dumb. I agree."

"I mean, I'll be wearing white. Everyone else will be wearing black."

"I don't like the show anyway. I kind of feel like the whole show will be dumb."

"I am not a big fan of the show either."

"What are you guys talking about?" said T.K. At this point, a considerable crowd had gathered around us.

Eric explained. There was an "oh" kind of reaction, followed by a pause.

"Are you like, really upset?" said Molly. "You look like you're really upset."

I mumbled incomprehensibly.

Molly put her hands on both of my shoulders. "Aidan. You take these things way. too. seriously!"

"I don't like the show! I want to play music I like! That's not unreasonable."

"Well yeah, but it's not the end of the world. There's no reason to get all grumpy about it. It's not bad, it's just not serious."

"I like serious music. I liked Chicago and Latin jazz. I do not like this." I continued to be grumpy for the rest of the evening.

That night I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about how this is my senior year. My senior year, and I don't even like the show. My senior year, and I might not even get to conduct - my entire leadership role might consist of leading warmups. And we have twenty drummers. And we're not even good. I stayed up until three in the morning thinking about it. That and the big spiders outside of the cabin and the smaller spiders inside of the cabin. At three, I started to get that feeling that you are about to go insane, or perhaps that you already have. I felt very lonely. I also felt a little nauseous. I said, softly, "Is anyone awake?"

No one responded. It was the worst feeling in the world.

When the same thing happened to me sophomore year, Lydia had been there to be rational and give me some water. She calmed me down because I trusted her, and I trusted her because she was a senior and I idolized her. When I realized that there was no Lydia anymore - not one single older, wiser person to idolize - I felt more nauseous. Nobody is as magical as I thought Lydia was. Because that's me now, and I'm not magical. At that point I was, in fact, a weak, afraid insomniac who needed someone to be rational and calm her down. Not magical at all.

I tried again ten minutes later. "Is anyone awake?"

"Yes, I am." It was Ally.

"Oh. I feel like shit."

"Me too."

"Now I'm awake," said Molly.

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

Another hour went by. After I went outside and threw up over the edge of the porch, Sarah woke up and offered me some prescription nausea medication. I took it. The whole cabin was rational, actually. When I went outside and threw up over the edge of the porch again, somewhere between four and five in the morning, I woke up the chaperone and she took me into her room, which is where I eventually woke up.