So, here I sit, in front of a blank canvas ready to espouse my opinions and emotions on to the world for all to enjoy. I had so many great ideas for this blog earlier today when i was trying to sleep. Unfortunitely now I can remember none of those now... and didn't get any sleep. So if i ramble on, I apologize.
Well, here I am at work again, its an OT day. And I have my 3 flight plans for the 10 hour shift. I was only suppose to have 2, but i discovered an omission by the other guy here.. and appearently since i found the problem, I have to deal with it. That normally doesn't bother me, except I know if I tried pulling that kinda shit with him there would be a riot. But oh well, Its done, sent and over with, and the plane should have no problems getting to Addis Ababa (Ray.. thats over near Chad... in Ethernopia).
And I do believe I have discovered a main reason I don't like my job. Its the shoes. I have to wear shoes. I would prefer to wear sandals. The women get to wear sandals, why can't I? Thats sexist!! I should file an EEO suit so I can wear more comfortable shoes. I don't know if you guys have ever noticed, but i almost always wear sandals during the summer these days, unless i'm on the bike or wearing dress up clothes. I can trace it back to when I gained my dislike of shoes.... Drum corps...
OK, JR, you asked a couple blogs back what DCI meant. DCI stands for Drum Corps International. All of you know I have admitted my nerdiness. And I'm proud! Well, This takes it to the level of Band Geek. Yes that was me. I was in the high school marching band, and loved it. Well, we all know what that is, people go out onto the field and play fun music and make nifty shapes right... well.. Imagine, if you will, you took that concept and pushed it to an extreme and there you have a modern Drum and Bugle Corps. Where your average HS band does say 50 formations in a 12 minute show, a drum and bugle corps (or corps) will do oh.. i dunno 500? And you spend a fair amount of time running between each spot. Oh wait, then you have to play an instrument (only drums and brass) or spin a rifle or flag or sabre. And you have to do it exactly like you 120 neighbors are doing it. And if you screw up everyone will see/hear you.. peers, instrucotrs and ausidence alike. Sounds fun right... go out practicing somewhere like 1000 hours for a 11 minute show. All done in the heat of summer.
Oh and it gets better, you pay to do this sort of thing, and you get to travel the country performing... like gypsies you roll into nowhere in a fleet of busses and trucks, get out, find a lovely hardwood or concrete (my favorite) floor and that's where you slept.. if you were lucky enough to get floor time... otherwise it was bus sleep. Get up, eat some food cooked by the loving moms, rehearse all day, show that night. Move on to the next town. And repeat... every now and then theres a day off to do laundry. And I've always been a big guy, but those of you who didn't know me in those days may be amazed to know how felxible I was and how comfortable on can be in a bus seat, or that i could probably finish the Peachtree Road race by the end of a summer on tour barely breathing hard.
But more so than the playing in front of thousands of people every night, the best parts of this hellish boot camp meets "The Music Man" was that we loved it. And we made the strongest friendships you can ever know. 9 of the top 16 friends are people I met marching corps. And while i don't talk to them often and see them less, I always know they're there for help and support, whenever i may need. We suffered both hardships and good times to be unmatched. And it built a few bonds there... something to be said for showering with the same people everyday (well almost everydy.. some days we didn't get a shower) for months... you really get to know them!
Now thats the brief overview of drum and bugle corps, so when you guys here me say "back when i marched corps".. you have a general idea what it was. And JR, DCI is the organization that sets up the tours and shows, and there's a show in the Georgia Dome this weekend. I'll be running into a few of the fine friends on the list, and jopefully several more that I haven't seen in a decade, and we'll know each other by sight, and nickname (there are people I spent 3 summers with who don't know my real name, but just know me by my nickname). We generally fall back into our old routines and personalities... now we're all "grown up" and "responsible", but for a few hours on Saturday, we'll be teenagers again... and the realities of adult life will disappear. Its like we never split up, like we never stopped touring sometimes. Yes a few of us have added weight and kids and lost hair ... but it won't matter. The conversations will start up like u never were seperated. I'm very much excited about seeing everyone! I miss ya'll much.
And one more thing before i get going to long... one thing i learned form that experience so long ago was that a group of people as diverse as you can get, can get together and work through problems that were looked insurmountable at first, but by the end were readily conquered. We had fights, we had arguments, we were a disfunctional family.. but we got a job done. In the corporate environments I work in, I am so hard pressed to find anything like the dedication or determination to do things as those groups of kids on a rehearsal field. Thje closest thing I ever had to that as an "adult" was a few times working for the legendary LT Hines and pulling off what other ramp crews deemed impossible... we didn't know u couldn't load a full MD-11 in 15 minutes with 5 people... so we did it because it was the right thing to do and it was there. It doesn't happen here thats for damn sure.
Thats it for the night. For you drum corps kids out there, if i left anything out, let me know, or write your own blog. And i wonder who you people are who keep reading these... if you're a Myspace stalker... i'm honored!
Oh, and how that ties into my hate of shoes... we were mandated to wear shoes for rehearsals and shows, about 15 hours a day... even the most comfortable of sneekeres get uncomfortable after 15 hours of standing, jogging, marching, etc... i loved the end of the day when i could get on the bus and into some flip flops!
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