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**BAND CAMP**
My promise made, I went home and came back a half an hour later ready for band camp. Of course now I ~really~ didn't know what I was getting myself into. I just figured that band camp would just be learning a bunch of routines that the guard would perform in front of people.
That's probably because, in my state of newness, I had completely and utterly ignored the fact that yes I was in colorguard, but that I was also in ~marching band~. I had completely overlooked the fact of why exactly they called it "marching band."
In the morning I brought out a notepad and paper with me, wondering what I was going to use it for. Soon, though, Mrs. Loren told us. "Alright, everybody is going to go outside for the first part of the day, and you'll learn some of your drill spots for the show this year."
Wait a minute. . .drill spots?
Nelly voiced what I was thinking. "Um, Mrs. Loren? What are 'drill spots'?" She asked. "Ah, right, you're new. Drill spots is where we march in the field. You'll learn a series of spots that are connected and when you march in them they will show patterns and such. It's why we're called a marching band." Nelly's mouth dropped at this point. I don't think that me, Alora, or Nelly were expecting that we'd have to walk (no, march) while doing these routines! But evidently. . .now we had to.
Me, Nelly, and Alora all exchanged looks as we went outside. "Drills. . .marching. . .I don't believe this." Nelly said. "Yeah." I agreed. We went up to a field that I later learned as 'the practice field.' But for now it was the field. . .of band camp. Shannon the drum major and Mr. Piquano the marching band instructor himself gave us a brief pre-band camp talk, and then. . .then the real band camp began.
Shannon, Marc the Drill Guy, and Mrs. Loren gave out all the drill spots. Naturally I was very confused, but tried my best to hide my confusion as I wrote down these. . .'drill spots' on my 'dot book.' Splitting the 35 and the 40, 2 steps back from the hash. What the heck was a hash? And how am ~I~ supposed to know where a 35 and a 40 was? Such went my first morning in band camp. I soon learned the layout of the field, and got a rough idea of what 'inside' and 'outside' meant, and also 'splitting' and 'hash marks.' These were all marching band terms I knew I'd need to know.
But how long was the morning, anyway?? By 10:30, I kept glancing at my watch repeatedly and noticing no change whatsoever. No change except the growing heat that relentlessly poured down upon us from the merciless sun, and the very melted water bottles over on that little concrete thing. Was this what band camp was about? As a new person, I didn't know, and was hardly expecting this. Between drill spots, and trying to get my mind off the fact that I would love nothing better than to sit down right now, I absentmindedly wrote random parts of a story I was working on on a page in my dot book. Soon, and thankfully, my watch read '12:00' and the director and Drill Guy called everyone in. "Well, so far it's gone pretty well." Mr. Piquano said. "We've gotten about 11 pages of drill done, and we're on a pretty good schedule. I'm sure you guys are all tired so go and have lunch and then we'll split for guard and music after lunch." Mr. Piquano and the Drill Guy waved us off.
Me, Nelly, and Alora immediately clustered together. Alora's face was sunburned, and Nelly's hair was all messy. "Well, that was something." Alora said. We made a feeble attempt at running to catch up with the rest of the guard. Soon we gave up all pretense of running and more like dragged ourselves to the place where our water bottles were. "Ah, the joys of water." Alora remarked as we took our now completely melted bottles to drink from. "The joys of ~melted~ water." Nelly muttered.
When we got our lunch, we walked into the cafeteria and looked around, bewildered. "Where are we supposed to sit, anyway?" Nelly whispered. "I don't know." I replied. "Look for Cara or Talie or someone." We looked and tried to find them, but with no success. "Lovely." Alora said dryly.
"Alora! Nelly! Christine!" I heard Mrs. Loren's voice calling all three of us. I relaxed slightly; at least I knew Mrs. Loren. She came up behind us, showing us to the 'guard table'. Cara waved cheerfully, telling everyone to 'move over and make a seat for the 8th graders'. "Yeah, we're 'the 8th graders.'" Alora whispered to me. "Go ahead, sit down. We don't bite." Said Chrisabel. Alora gave a nervous smile and we all sat down, Mrs. Loren sitting next to me. "So, how'd you guys like your first morning of band camp?" Mrs. Loren asked everyone. "Uhh. . ." Nelly said. "It was. . ." "Interesting." Alora interjected, knowing that was a safe enough answer. "I'm actually starting to like it!" Cara said cheerfully. "Being with all the other guard members." She grinned at everyone, and patted my head. "How'd you like it, Christine?" I blinked at her. "It was. . .okay, I guess. . ." Cara grinned again. "Yeah, it's definitely different as a new person." She said. The rest of the guard was deep in discussion of non- colorguard things. I caught snatches of "And then my boyfriend said, 'You know,'. . ." and "I'm just glad I passed the math section."
"What do ~you~ three think of marching band so far? I mean, overall?" Mrs. Loren then asked us. "Uh. . ." again, I found myself at a loss for words. Then, knowing it was Mrs. Loren I was talking to after all, I blurted out, "What have I gotten myself into?" Then I snapped my mouth shut when I realized what I had just said. But Mrs. Loren didn't scold me, she just smiled. "It's always like that at first." She said. "Yeah, I kind of agree with Christine." Alora admitted, now more open to admitting it because I said it first. "Me too." Nelly said last. "I mean, everyone else seems to know each other so well, and we're just. . ." "8th graders." I finished. "Yeah." Alora and Nelly breathed. Mrs. Loren smiled and shook her head. "You guys shouldn't worry about it." She said. "Everyone has to start out sometime. Don't worry, you will get better as the season goes on. I promise that." I smiled slightly at that, but was still inwardly nervous. I took tiny bites of my lunch in hopes of settling my nervousness.
After lunch was over, at 1:00, we 'split for guard and music.' The guard stayed in the cafeteria (oh blessed cafeteria, with air condition and no sun!) and the band went into the band room to memorize and practice their music. We got our flags and then set up in a 'block'. During the two hours of guard practice, we did some marching and then marching while doing drop spins. We also practiced some moves (and for Me, Nelly, and Alora, learned these new moves) and Mrs. Loren began making a rough routine. We learned it, only understanding about half of what was being taught. But I knew that Cara would help me later, anyway. Cara was so nice. She was a junior, yes, and being that much older than us you'd expect her to be standoffish and junior-y. But she wasn't, she seemed to act as an acting teacher to me, offering to help me with work and such. So for those hours we did really basic stuff, but I was very glad for the basic stuff.
Lastly, in the last hour or so, we went back outside and went through the drill. By then I was exhausted and I seemed to have marched the feet off my legs. Even Nelly seemed tired. I tripped occasionally and missed some of my spots. But soon, and thankfully, the Drill Guy and Mr. Piquano called everyone in for the last time for a talking and then. . .ahhh, home. Mr. P's speech was shorter than the afternoon one. Glancing at my watch, it read, '3:50.' Hey, we were ending ~ten whole minutes~ early! Wow, what a triumph. Finally Mr. P finished, and we all once again traipsed down the hill. "What a successful day!" Cara said, coming up to me and patting me on the head again. "Why is everyone patting me on the head?" I exclaimed. Cara grinned. "Because it's fun!" She replied, giving me another pat. I rolled my eyes, my mood suddenly improving because I knew that the day was ~over~.
Alora's mom drove me home that day. We talked briefly in the car about whether or not we would join next year. My answer was a definite 'no' and Alora's was a 'maybe.' Finally we arrived at my house. I took my bag and left, thanking Alora's mom for the ride home. I ran in, opened the door, dropped my bag in my room, and then collapsed on the couch, knowing then just exactly how tired I was.
And then I realized. . .I still had four more days left.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The rest of the week was beyond anything I could have thought of. Before this week, I had no idea what band camp was. Now I knew: it was a nasty little trick they played on new people. If you asked what band camp was, they would smile and say, "Oh, it's where you learn your drill spots." And that was true. . .it ~was~ where you learned your drill spots. What they never tell you is that it is 8-12 hour days where you are outside in the sun (in the summer, mind you) standing in a field for hours on end. Nope, they never mention it to new people. And now I know why: if they did, all the new people would run screaming in the other direction.
But the rest of the week went pretty much the same as the first day, except for Wednesday. Wednesday we had a 'bonfire night' as it was called. Most of the day was just an average band camp-ish day, but then at night we got a pizza dinner and then an ice cream sundae thing. We got to make sundaes and put lots of cool stuff on it. Then we had. . .the bonfire thing.
That was actually pretty fun. We all went up past the field onto another field, one I had watched the fireworks on many times before. Then in the center they built a bonfire, and all band and colorguard members sat around it. I huddled in next to Alora, Nelly, and Alora's friend Jessica. Each band section leader got up and read something about a person, and then that person would come up and toast a marshmallow. Then they would either eat it or throw it in the fire (or, in the case of some trombone players, eat it while it's flaming), and it was said to bring good luck for the rest of the season.
Talie and Cara went up for the guard. "Alora Jeter," Talie read, calling Alora up. "Well, so far it's been interesting. I remember you were really nervous on the first day and you seem to have pretty much gotten over some of it." Alora gave Talie a look like, 'gotten over??' "But it's been good. For a new person just starting out, you seem to have a good understanding of everything, even if you don't especially show it. It'll be a great season, don't worry." Talie gave Alora the marshmallow. She toasted it, ate it, then scrambled back to sit next to me. "That marshmallow tasted like stick." She remarked.
"Christine Vendredy," Cara said, calling me up. "Everything started out a bit rough." She began. "Christine was afraid she wouldn't be as good as everyone else. But I promised to help her out and it seems to have been helping. A bit." She grinned at me. "But don't worry, after band camp, the worst of it is over. You'll do great this season. So come up, and toast your first marshmallow!" Cara handed me the marshmallow, which I stuck on the stick and put it in the fire. I wasn't about to eat a flaming marshmallow like one of the trombone players did, so I just ate it normally, and hoped very much that it would bring good luck as everyone said. And Alora was right; it did taste like stick.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I was very very glad when Friday came, and it was the last day of band camp. It meant all the sun and the heat and the marching was over (well, for now, at least) and my dot book could rest in peace on my shelf until school started. So Friday went well overall. . .and then night time came. The band camp notices said that Friday night would be 'preview night.' It would be a chance for all of our parents to come and watch what we had done that week so far. Both my parents were coming. I was slightly nervous because all the work we did at the end of our show I didn't quite understand. But oh well, for once Cara's enthusiasm got the better of me and I decided to 'go ahead and try.'
When all the parents arrived, in order to prepare the band went into the band room and all the guard people went into what I would later know as 'the guard corner.' Chrisabel went into her bag and pulled out little bags of Lucky Charms. "Yes, I know it's cereal." She said, grinning at Carrie. "But it's for good luck for the performance tonight and for the rest of the season." We each got a little bag of our own, and then went back outside for. . .the preview show.
My parents were sitting on the top of the hill. I waved in acknowledgement to them before going into the block that our guard does when doing drop spins. We did them, only 50 of them (a/n: 50 drop spins. . . not 500. . . how I miss those days) and then set up for the performance. The drum majors (there were two of them) went up to do their directing. And as the music started, it seemed as if I actually remembered all my drill spots. . . and even a bit of work to go along with them.
The show went great, actually! We all moved pretty good and although I couldn't do any of the ending work we made our forms and the band played and the parents clapped for us! As we finished our show, I heard the claps and cheers from the parents, and felt a wave of. . .something. . .flow through me. What was it?? It was something unlike anything I've felt before. . .
Pride. And adrenaline. The pride of completing a show, of performing it successfully in front of someone else. To hear the claps and applauds of people, even if it ~is~ only our parents, who would clap for us even if the entire guard just dropped their flags. It was that pride at that moment that seemed to make all of band camp worth it. Even though now that feeling was only a small hint of what would later come, it was something.
And as we marched off that field, I caught up with Alora and Nelly, and they seemed to both be grinning as hugely as I was. For nothing could be greater than that feeling, however small it was.
And now that band camp was over, and I was filled with the post-performance hyperness, I couldn't help but think. . .
That perhaps the rest of the season won't be so bad after all.
**BAND CAMP**
My promise made, I went home and came back a half an hour later ready for band camp. Of course now I ~really~ didn't know what I was getting myself into. I just figured that band camp would just be learning a bunch of routines that the guard would perform in front of people.
That's probably because, in my state of newness, I had completely and utterly ignored the fact that yes I was in colorguard, but that I was also in ~marching band~. I had completely overlooked the fact of why exactly they called it "marching band."
In the morning I brought out a notepad and paper with me, wondering what I was going to use it for. Soon, though, Mrs. Loren told us. "Alright, everybody is going to go outside for the first part of the day, and you'll learn some of your drill spots for the show this year."
Wait a minute. . .drill spots?
Nelly voiced what I was thinking. "Um, Mrs. Loren? What are 'drill spots'?" She asked. "Ah, right, you're new. Drill spots is where we march in the field. You'll learn a series of spots that are connected and when you march in them they will show patterns and such. It's why we're called a marching band." Nelly's mouth dropped at this point. I don't think that me, Alora, or Nelly were expecting that we'd have to walk (no, march) while doing these routines! But evidently. . .now we had to.
Me, Nelly, and Alora all exchanged looks as we went outside. "Drills. . .marching. . .I don't believe this." Nelly said. "Yeah." I agreed. We went up to a field that I later learned as 'the practice field.' But for now it was the field. . .of band camp. Shannon the drum major and Mr. Piquano the marching band instructor himself gave us a brief pre-band camp talk, and then. . .then the real band camp began.
Shannon, Marc the Drill Guy, and Mrs. Loren gave out all the drill spots. Naturally I was very confused, but tried my best to hide my confusion as I wrote down these. . .'drill spots' on my 'dot book.' Splitting the 35 and the 40, 2 steps back from the hash. What the heck was a hash? And how am ~I~ supposed to know where a 35 and a 40 was? Such went my first morning in band camp. I soon learned the layout of the field, and got a rough idea of what 'inside' and 'outside' meant, and also 'splitting' and 'hash marks.' These were all marching band terms I knew I'd need to know.
But how long was the morning, anyway?? By 10:30, I kept glancing at my watch repeatedly and noticing no change whatsoever. No change except the growing heat that relentlessly poured down upon us from the merciless sun, and the very melted water bottles over on that little concrete thing. Was this what band camp was about? As a new person, I didn't know, and was hardly expecting this. Between drill spots, and trying to get my mind off the fact that I would love nothing better than to sit down right now, I absentmindedly wrote random parts of a story I was working on on a page in my dot book. Soon, and thankfully, my watch read '12:00' and the director and Drill Guy called everyone in. "Well, so far it's gone pretty well." Mr. Piquano said. "We've gotten about 11 pages of drill done, and we're on a pretty good schedule. I'm sure you guys are all tired so go and have lunch and then we'll split for guard and music after lunch." Mr. Piquano and the Drill Guy waved us off.
Me, Nelly, and Alora immediately clustered together. Alora's face was sunburned, and Nelly's hair was all messy. "Well, that was something." Alora said. We made a feeble attempt at running to catch up with the rest of the guard. Soon we gave up all pretense of running and more like dragged ourselves to the place where our water bottles were. "Ah, the joys of water." Alora remarked as we took our now completely melted bottles to drink from. "The joys of ~melted~ water." Nelly muttered.
When we got our lunch, we walked into the cafeteria and looked around, bewildered. "Where are we supposed to sit, anyway?" Nelly whispered. "I don't know." I replied. "Look for Cara or Talie or someone." We looked and tried to find them, but with no success. "Lovely." Alora said dryly.
"Alora! Nelly! Christine!" I heard Mrs. Loren's voice calling all three of us. I relaxed slightly; at least I knew Mrs. Loren. She came up behind us, showing us to the 'guard table'. Cara waved cheerfully, telling everyone to 'move over and make a seat for the 8th graders'. "Yeah, we're 'the 8th graders.'" Alora whispered to me. "Go ahead, sit down. We don't bite." Said Chrisabel. Alora gave a nervous smile and we all sat down, Mrs. Loren sitting next to me. "So, how'd you guys like your first morning of band camp?" Mrs. Loren asked everyone. "Uhh. . ." Nelly said. "It was. . ." "Interesting." Alora interjected, knowing that was a safe enough answer. "I'm actually starting to like it!" Cara said cheerfully. "Being with all the other guard members." She grinned at everyone, and patted my head. "How'd you like it, Christine?" I blinked at her. "It was. . .okay, I guess. . ." Cara grinned again. "Yeah, it's definitely different as a new person." She said. The rest of the guard was deep in discussion of non- colorguard things. I caught snatches of "And then my boyfriend said, 'You know,'. . ." and "I'm just glad I passed the math section."
"What do ~you~ three think of marching band so far? I mean, overall?" Mrs. Loren then asked us. "Uh. . ." again, I found myself at a loss for words. Then, knowing it was Mrs. Loren I was talking to after all, I blurted out, "What have I gotten myself into?" Then I snapped my mouth shut when I realized what I had just said. But Mrs. Loren didn't scold me, she just smiled. "It's always like that at first." She said. "Yeah, I kind of agree with Christine." Alora admitted, now more open to admitting it because I said it first. "Me too." Nelly said last. "I mean, everyone else seems to know each other so well, and we're just. . ." "8th graders." I finished. "Yeah." Alora and Nelly breathed. Mrs. Loren smiled and shook her head. "You guys shouldn't worry about it." She said. "Everyone has to start out sometime. Don't worry, you will get better as the season goes on. I promise that." I smiled slightly at that, but was still inwardly nervous. I took tiny bites of my lunch in hopes of settling my nervousness.
After lunch was over, at 1:00, we 'split for guard and music.' The guard stayed in the cafeteria (oh blessed cafeteria, with air condition and no sun!) and the band went into the band room to memorize and practice their music. We got our flags and then set up in a 'block'. During the two hours of guard practice, we did some marching and then marching while doing drop spins. We also practiced some moves (and for Me, Nelly, and Alora, learned these new moves) and Mrs. Loren began making a rough routine. We learned it, only understanding about half of what was being taught. But I knew that Cara would help me later, anyway. Cara was so nice. She was a junior, yes, and being that much older than us you'd expect her to be standoffish and junior-y. But she wasn't, she seemed to act as an acting teacher to me, offering to help me with work and such. So for those hours we did really basic stuff, but I was very glad for the basic stuff.
Lastly, in the last hour or so, we went back outside and went through the drill. By then I was exhausted and I seemed to have marched the feet off my legs. Even Nelly seemed tired. I tripped occasionally and missed some of my spots. But soon, and thankfully, the Drill Guy and Mr. Piquano called everyone in for the last time for a talking and then. . .ahhh, home. Mr. P's speech was shorter than the afternoon one. Glancing at my watch, it read, '3:50.' Hey, we were ending ~ten whole minutes~ early! Wow, what a triumph. Finally Mr. P finished, and we all once again traipsed down the hill. "What a successful day!" Cara said, coming up to me and patting me on the head again. "Why is everyone patting me on the head?" I exclaimed. Cara grinned. "Because it's fun!" She replied, giving me another pat. I rolled my eyes, my mood suddenly improving because I knew that the day was ~over~.
Alora's mom drove me home that day. We talked briefly in the car about whether or not we would join next year. My answer was a definite 'no' and Alora's was a 'maybe.' Finally we arrived at my house. I took my bag and left, thanking Alora's mom for the ride home. I ran in, opened the door, dropped my bag in my room, and then collapsed on the couch, knowing then just exactly how tired I was.
And then I realized. . .I still had four more days left.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The rest of the week was beyond anything I could have thought of. Before this week, I had no idea what band camp was. Now I knew: it was a nasty little trick they played on new people. If you asked what band camp was, they would smile and say, "Oh, it's where you learn your drill spots." And that was true. . .it ~was~ where you learned your drill spots. What they never tell you is that it is 8-12 hour days where you are outside in the sun (in the summer, mind you) standing in a field for hours on end. Nope, they never mention it to new people. And now I know why: if they did, all the new people would run screaming in the other direction.
But the rest of the week went pretty much the same as the first day, except for Wednesday. Wednesday we had a 'bonfire night' as it was called. Most of the day was just an average band camp-ish day, but then at night we got a pizza dinner and then an ice cream sundae thing. We got to make sundaes and put lots of cool stuff on it. Then we had. . .the bonfire thing.
That was actually pretty fun. We all went up past the field onto another field, one I had watched the fireworks on many times before. Then in the center they built a bonfire, and all band and colorguard members sat around it. I huddled in next to Alora, Nelly, and Alora's friend Jessica. Each band section leader got up and read something about a person, and then that person would come up and toast a marshmallow. Then they would either eat it or throw it in the fire (or, in the case of some trombone players, eat it while it's flaming), and it was said to bring good luck for the rest of the season.
Talie and Cara went up for the guard. "Alora Jeter," Talie read, calling Alora up. "Well, so far it's been interesting. I remember you were really nervous on the first day and you seem to have pretty much gotten over some of it." Alora gave Talie a look like, 'gotten over??' "But it's been good. For a new person just starting out, you seem to have a good understanding of everything, even if you don't especially show it. It'll be a great season, don't worry." Talie gave Alora the marshmallow. She toasted it, ate it, then scrambled back to sit next to me. "That marshmallow tasted like stick." She remarked.
"Christine Vendredy," Cara said, calling me up. "Everything started out a bit rough." She began. "Christine was afraid she wouldn't be as good as everyone else. But I promised to help her out and it seems to have been helping. A bit." She grinned at me. "But don't worry, after band camp, the worst of it is over. You'll do great this season. So come up, and toast your first marshmallow!" Cara handed me the marshmallow, which I stuck on the stick and put it in the fire. I wasn't about to eat a flaming marshmallow like one of the trombone players did, so I just ate it normally, and hoped very much that it would bring good luck as everyone said. And Alora was right; it did taste like stick.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I was very very glad when Friday came, and it was the last day of band camp. It meant all the sun and the heat and the marching was over (well, for now, at least) and my dot book could rest in peace on my shelf until school started. So Friday went well overall. . .and then night time came. The band camp notices said that Friday night would be 'preview night.' It would be a chance for all of our parents to come and watch what we had done that week so far. Both my parents were coming. I was slightly nervous because all the work we did at the end of our show I didn't quite understand. But oh well, for once Cara's enthusiasm got the better of me and I decided to 'go ahead and try.'
When all the parents arrived, in order to prepare the band went into the band room and all the guard people went into what I would later know as 'the guard corner.' Chrisabel went into her bag and pulled out little bags of Lucky Charms. "Yes, I know it's cereal." She said, grinning at Carrie. "But it's for good luck for the performance tonight and for the rest of the season." We each got a little bag of our own, and then went back outside for. . .the preview show.
My parents were sitting on the top of the hill. I waved in acknowledgement to them before going into the block that our guard does when doing drop spins. We did them, only 50 of them (a/n: 50 drop spins. . . not 500. . . how I miss those days) and then set up for the performance. The drum majors (there were two of them) went up to do their directing. And as the music started, it seemed as if I actually remembered all my drill spots. . . and even a bit of work to go along with them.
The show went great, actually! We all moved pretty good and although I couldn't do any of the ending work we made our forms and the band played and the parents clapped for us! As we finished our show, I heard the claps and cheers from the parents, and felt a wave of. . .something. . .flow through me. What was it?? It was something unlike anything I've felt before. . .
Pride. And adrenaline. The pride of completing a show, of performing it successfully in front of someone else. To hear the claps and applauds of people, even if it ~is~ only our parents, who would clap for us even if the entire guard just dropped their flags. It was that pride at that moment that seemed to make all of band camp worth it. Even though now that feeling was only a small hint of what would later come, it was something.
And as we marched off that field, I caught up with Alora and Nelly, and they seemed to both be grinning as hugely as I was. For nothing could be greater than that feeling, however small it was.
And now that band camp was over, and I was filled with the post-performance hyperness, I couldn't help but think. . .
That perhaps the rest of the season won't be so bad after all.