With our 15 minutes to spare before the marching lesson started, a few of the girls discussed our cabin assignments. One senior demanded that our bunk play a "bunk game" tonight. A few of the boys came over to talk to us, and again I noticed someone familiar. Only this person and I were a little bit more familiar.
The face I recognized was Mike Jarmen. Mike and I had quite a history. In fact, he was one of the best friends my life included. Mike and I had dated in 7th and 8th grade, and after breaking up we remained very close friends. Mike was a person I could talk to about anything. I didn't have anyone else like that, not even Kristen and I could talk like that anymore. I talked to him about me problems with my family, with Christy Russo and my sister, school, and even boys. Mike was always there for me, and I never entirely got over him after we broke up. Probably because he was my first boyfriend. But whatever the reason I was glad he was there.
Mike had bright orange hair, and green eyes. He was about my height, and considering that he was a football player he was a thick guy. He wasn't over weight though. The only think pudgy about Mike was his adorable dimples. Mike had an awesome smile, although it was a rare treat for him to actually use it. Mike was a quiet guy around most people, but he really was a sweetheart.
"BAND! TEN HUT!"
"…hut?" We snapped to attention, but boy did we mess up that hut. I looked around, wondering what we were supposed to do if we messed up like that. Some of the others looked too.
"Everyone that just moved owes me ten! Now!" Eddie yelled.
"Yes sir," we yelled dropping to the ground like flies. Ew, I can't do push-ups! Oh well, I did my best!
"Stand-by!" Every time they gave us that command you would hear a shuffle of feet as people dragged their right foot out away from their left.
"BAND! TEN HUT!"
"HUT!" Ha! That time we got some people jogging to turn and look because we startled them. Heh, that was cool.
Eddie, Nicole, and Nathan began their circling again. I was back at attention now, and I had to try very hard not to let my eyes follow the drum majors. Within five minutes the bottoms of my feet were burning. Every now and then a fly would land on a person, and I could see them twitch through the corner of my eyes. Using peripheral vision was a skill one learned very well on the field.
Stevens explained that we'd be dividing up into smaller groups to learn marching basics. Basics? There are basics? Does that mean there are more than just basics? Eddie was in charge of my group. Oh great. He called us to attention and then started rambling about how to pull your instrument up, so that the mouth piece is eye level, and keeping you elbows in, and making sure that your chin was up, eyes forward. Holding the clarinet at attention felt awkward. I couldn't have my hands at my sides, both hands had to be on the instrument. So I had to keep the mouthpiece so high that it was eye level, the instrument stood perpendicular to the ground. It was different, but like everything else, I got used to it.
Ok, but now I have another problem, with my instrument straight out in front of me like that, perpendicular to the ground, how am I supposed to play it? You know, playing it involves putting it in your mouth, that's something these guys should know! Oh great, here it comes. Another new command.
"Band! Horns up!" Eddie barked. We were all supposed to snap our wrists and bring out instruments right to our faces. I'll be lucky if I don't whack myself in the face every time I try to do this, I thought. The more Eddie repeated this drill, the more natural it felt. Eddie kept telling us to keep the movement crisp, and snappy, just like the snap from stand-by to attention. It had to be quick and impressive, another plus the judges looked for. If the whole band did it right in time, it also was an awesome effect.
Oh, and next we learned how to march! That little lesson took forever! The idea of marching forward was that our upper bodies needed to stay in the exact attention position, and while we are marching, your body shouldn't bounce, because otherwise your sound will bounce while playing. Judges don't like that!
In order to create this glide like movement we had to learn about a little thing called "toe-pull". We learned to take what would be a normal step, but raise our toes so high that someone could read words written on the bottoms of our shoes. That is toe-pull. Then we roll forward on our foot, and it creates the glide if you can balance yourself correctly.
Now the other thing we had to learn was what we call and 8 to 5 step. For every 5 yards on a football field, a person is supposed to take 8 steps. Each step has to be the same size. Not too hard, just a matter of readjusting step sizes.
Well those little lessons lasted for two and a half hours. We had a few water breaks, but we were parched! Jo told me that we'd learn to march backwards tomorrow, and boy was that a killer on your calves. My shins already ached from toe-pull.
Dinner came around soon enough. We were talking about the day's activities when Nicole turned to me and pulled up the sleeve of my shirt. I looked like a lobster! Ouch! Yeah, sunscreen tomorrow! Sidney laughed and said she thought I looked more like a strawberry than anything else.
"Hey! Jo! You up for that nature hike sometime this camp? I hear the trails up here are amazing," said a tall, pudgy senior trumpet player named Cameron.
"Maybe sometime," Jo smiled as she answered. She leaned over to me once Cameron had left and told me to "watch out for that one, trumpets are trouble". I had already noticed that, Cameron seemed to be the loudest one in camp, and he loved to be a trouble maker.