"Are you kidding me? Aliens Abducted the Marching Band..you've got to be
joking me," Danielle said incredulously.
"I'm not though. It's absolutely true. That's our show for next year." I
personally thought it was interesting. The music was amazing, and the ideas
that Murphy had were absolutely amazing. Not at all like last year.
Anything was better than last year.
"Wow. I mean, it's cool, I guess. Alien's abducted the marching band..wow."
I liked it. It sounded like fun to play, but it sounded even more fun to
conduct. I was the junior drum major of our band, the South Marching
Wildcats. Technically, I was still a sophomore, but it was May, and I was
ready. Drum Major try-outs had just ended, and Victoria had just been
chosen as the new sophomore drum major. The new season looked more
promising everyday. We might even have a shot at state this year, but that
was in furthest in the back of our minds. All we wanted was to make it out
of districts. We wanted that division one, what we had longed for so much.
And it looked like the goal might be obtainable this year. The musical
selection was completely original- it hadn't been done by a band in Indiana
yet, at least to the knowledge of everyone.
Band in Indiana, that's just another topic all in itself. Marching band is
big in a few states, namely Indiana, Florida, and Texas. In Indiana,
marching band is a way of life. It's extremely competitive, and everyone
wants to march in the dome. Some bands do anything to get there, including
exuberant spending on props and the best drill writers, musical arrangers
and color guard instructors there are. Maybe, just maybe we might be able
to fight our way into that elite circle. But for now, we just wanted out of
Districts.
June Band went smoothly. Music camp came and went, with people that actually cared about what they were doing. The main concern of the staff was how small the band was getting. Every year it got progressively smaller. My freshman year there were probably around 120 people, and the next year we had dropped to 100. This year, it looked like we would come out with about 90 people. 90 people in an ISSMA class A band. It was almost a joke. It was respectable that a small band like us could get out there and cause a rush, but it was really hard to make a dent in the judge's minds like the big dogs. That is, the schools who had been marching in the dome their whole career. The schools everyone looked at and said "I wish I was in THEIR band." They were amazing- and they had the numbers. The South Wildcats had a chance- but it was small. I don't want to get into the whole "competing against bands your own size is better" because the people from the big dog bands get mad and snappy. True, as a whole we fare much better against bands our own size, but as long as ISSMA keeps the "school sized standard" looks like we'll still grit our teeth and bare it.
Now, it didn't seem to bother the staff much, but something was starting to eat away at the band members, and his name was Matt. Matt was the trumpet instructor and pseudo assistant band director. Granted, he was still in college, but Matt had just as much control over that band as Mr. Murphy. Everyone could feel how cold Matt was. But Mr. Murphy seemed to think he was everyone's favorite guy. Unfortunately for him, he would come to find out that Matt Davis was not so shiny and innocent as he'd hoped.
After June band and Drum Major camp had passed, it was time for the band to convene at Band camp. Band Camp was held at our school every year, and for all the years previous we'd been allowed an open campus, but the band was in an outrage because of new restrictions placed on them by Mr. Murphy. He was a new guy, how dare he do this. Our old band director, Mr. Hardesty, had abandoned us during band camp the year before. He decided to go teach band at a local middle school, and left us promptly. We were then without a director until the day before school started. Perhaps that was one reason we'd scored so low last year. Well that was not the case now, and even if we had to sit and eat nasty closed campus lunches, it would be better than suffering the feeling of despair the division two brings.
Ah, the Division two. Every year, there are two major contests for bands. The rest, they mean things, but the two that really mean something are Districts and Regionals. If you don't get out of Districts, you can't advance to regionals, and if you don't get out of regionals, you can't advance to state. Well, we'd all decided that if we ever got out of regionals we'd all shave our heads, but getting out of Districts was very important. To be taken seriously in the Indiana world of marching band, you should make it out of districts. A division one means you go- and a division two means you stay home the week of October 17th. At Regionals, the top 5 bands go on to state, and a Division one means you score over 70. To advance out of district, you must score over 60. Last year, our score had been 59.3 at districts, and we stayed home that weekend. Everyone was excited about this year.this was the year to turn everything around. And so we sat and we ate our closed campus hot dogs, drank our closed campus coke, and went on with life.
June Band went smoothly. Music camp came and went, with people that actually cared about what they were doing. The main concern of the staff was how small the band was getting. Every year it got progressively smaller. My freshman year there were probably around 120 people, and the next year we had dropped to 100. This year, it looked like we would come out with about 90 people. 90 people in an ISSMA class A band. It was almost a joke. It was respectable that a small band like us could get out there and cause a rush, but it was really hard to make a dent in the judge's minds like the big dogs. That is, the schools who had been marching in the dome their whole career. The schools everyone looked at and said "I wish I was in THEIR band." They were amazing- and they had the numbers. The South Wildcats had a chance- but it was small. I don't want to get into the whole "competing against bands your own size is better" because the people from the big dog bands get mad and snappy. True, as a whole we fare much better against bands our own size, but as long as ISSMA keeps the "school sized standard" looks like we'll still grit our teeth and bare it.
Now, it didn't seem to bother the staff much, but something was starting to eat away at the band members, and his name was Matt. Matt was the trumpet instructor and pseudo assistant band director. Granted, he was still in college, but Matt had just as much control over that band as Mr. Murphy. Everyone could feel how cold Matt was. But Mr. Murphy seemed to think he was everyone's favorite guy. Unfortunately for him, he would come to find out that Matt Davis was not so shiny and innocent as he'd hoped.
After June band and Drum Major camp had passed, it was time for the band to convene at Band camp. Band Camp was held at our school every year, and for all the years previous we'd been allowed an open campus, but the band was in an outrage because of new restrictions placed on them by Mr. Murphy. He was a new guy, how dare he do this. Our old band director, Mr. Hardesty, had abandoned us during band camp the year before. He decided to go teach band at a local middle school, and left us promptly. We were then without a director until the day before school started. Perhaps that was one reason we'd scored so low last year. Well that was not the case now, and even if we had to sit and eat nasty closed campus lunches, it would be better than suffering the feeling of despair the division two brings.
Ah, the Division two. Every year, there are two major contests for bands. The rest, they mean things, but the two that really mean something are Districts and Regionals. If you don't get out of Districts, you can't advance to regionals, and if you don't get out of regionals, you can't advance to state. Well, we'd all decided that if we ever got out of regionals we'd all shave our heads, but getting out of Districts was very important. To be taken seriously in the Indiana world of marching band, you should make it out of districts. A division one means you go- and a division two means you stay home the week of October 17th. At Regionals, the top 5 bands go on to state, and a Division one means you score over 70. To advance out of district, you must score over 60. Last year, our score had been 59.3 at districts, and we stayed home that weekend. Everyone was excited about this year.this was the year to turn everything around. And so we sat and we ate our closed campus hot dogs, drank our closed campus coke, and went on with life.