The noted German scholar and philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche is credited with the saying: "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger". It is a empowering, comforting, yet highly misleading statement. It could just as well have read "That which does not kill us......leaves us maimed, blind, crippled, emotionally void, and quite possibly, mentally arthritic for the rest of our lives". I imagine it really depends on if we have what they call intestinal fortitude, or courage, or pugnaciousness (yeah, I had to look that one up too), or simply the ability to get back up after being knocked down, brush ourselves off, and head back on the road of life. But stronger??
The jury may still be out on this for me......
I was a college freshman in the fall of 1974 at what was then West Texas State University. I received a small but appreciated music scholarship to attend there. WTSU was in 1974, one of the, if not THE most respected Fine Arts Universities in the state of Texas, and also the Southwest. It's School of Music was second to none and it's faculty was a Who's Who in Music showcase. Our Marching and Concert Band Director was Dr. Gary Garner. He was a man like no other. He was extremely friendly and his style of teaching was totally opposite of that I had experienced in high school. In high school we had not only halftime shows everyweek to learn, but contests at the end of the year, so the pressure was much heavier. Here in college it was fun.(EIGHT BALL MOMENT: I met my wife Carol in high school. I was a Junior and she was a stinkin' Sophomore and it was summer band in August.....In West Texas.......100 degrees....Now as upper classmen it was our responsibility to inflict as much grief on incoming sophomores as possible. It was simply tradition.
I noticed her initially during the first few days of summer band because she reminded me of a girl I had liked back in 7th grade. Now, since it was extremely hot during practice, there was an unwritten rule that if you felt faint or dizzy, you could drop out and go sit down in the shade, whatever there was of it, to cool off. The others would trudge on until the scheduled break. I noticed one time that Carol had turned beet red and had dropped out and sat down on the ground against the fence with another sophomore. When the scheduled break was called I felt it was time to go make an impression on her with my witty banter, good looks, well documented status as an exceptional drummer and killer charm. Afterall, she was in a weakened state. JUST like I wanted it. Weak and vulnerable... heheheheh. So, I slung my snare across my back and did my best James Dean/John Wayne/Steve McQueen walk over to her. In the seconds as I approached this wounded animal, a million possible words came across my mind, but as I was within mere feet of her, I realized all the cool words had failed to arrange themselves in an understandable sentence and I ended spooing out words that would live on in history as the very first words I ever said to this future grandmother of 8: "Hey, sophomore, did ya puke??" The rest, they say, is history....)
Underclassmen, especially Freshman, have always had to either wait their turn or work extremely hard to achieve any kind of recognition at their level of classification, especially as it comes to band in a major college and doubly so at a highly regarded Fine Arts College as was West Texas State University. I was content to feel my way around, check out every drummer to determine his or her weaknesses and see where I was to fit. Drum section during marching season require several spots to be filled which included snare drums, tom-toms, bass drums, cymbals, & bells. In college, halftime shows are much more relaxed and less rudimental and included many props, all of which were to be the responsibility of a lowly freshman, alternating each week, and yes, yours truly did my time. After, I was "paroled" I rejoined the snare line the next week. Week in and week out we worked on perfecting our halftime show all heading towards our one out of town trip for the season which was The University of Tulsa.
The Tulsa Hurricanes football team was highly ranked in the nation and was having a remarkable season, as were our Fighting Buffalos of WTSU, and the upcoming game was expected to be a sell out, so obviously we were working our butts off to present a great halftime show.
Opportunity can either sneak up on you by way of hard work, luck, an opening caused by an illness or all three in my case. Monday morning of the week of the Tulsa game, I got the news that I was going to play Lead Snare at the game. Needless to say I was pumped....and mega-nervous, so the show prep was more important than ever, at least to me.. Playing Lead Snare included playing several solo's during the show as well as leading the drum line out. Some bands come on the field from the sidelines, WE ran out from the end zone in a fast kick-butt drum cadence led by who else, but the lead snare. We finished our practicing for the week and late Friday afternoon left Canyon, Texas and headed for Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Late Saturday morning we boarded our buses and headed to Chapman Stadium on the University of Tulsa campus for a run-through of our show. Due to some traffic problems we arrived a little after noon. All 300+ of us "de-bused" and headed for the field to check it out. When I imerged from that tunnel, my mouth fell open as I stepped into the first artificial field in my life. It wasn't astroturf but more of a carpet and because of the fact that it was over 110 degrees on the field, there was heat rising off the green turf and sending an eerie feeling through everyone there this was the enemie's turf and we weren't welcome. after a few minutes on walking on the field to get it's feel and feeling the intense heat rising up from the turf, we gathered together in the endzone in our assigned spots with our instruments in an "at ease" stance. The drum major yelled "BAND!!" The band came to a quick attention with a drum whack and the words "Ten Hut!!!" which echoed through 30,000 empty seats. The drum majors blew their whistle, our section leader clicked us off and BAM!!, we were off and running. Except for a few stops for water and rest from the extreme heat, we ran throught the show three times and when we felt that we were ready, packed up and headed back to the hotel. We were ready,but more importantly, I was ready. I had the show down pat in my head, and all the solos down to a fine art. YES, I was ready. I felt like I was being given a tremendous responsibility, and I was confident that I was going to be one of a handful of freshmen that were allowed to play solos in their freshman year, and could take it and run with it.
Kickoff was set for 7:30pm and after we relaxed for a few hours, ate, dressed in our marching uniforms we boarded the buses at 5:30 and headed for the stadium. Now, the standard band uniform back in 1974 was made from 100% cotton and hot as the dickens. I was lead to believe cotton "breathed". HA!!! Another lie made up by cotton manufacturers to fool the American public!!! Band uniforms like ours were two-pieced with the pants being equipted with buttons on the front and the back for suspenders because there were no loops for belts. The other piece was, of course, the overlay which had the schools name and all sorts of decorations on it. To complete it for marching was the hat which had a slot or hole in the top for a plume. Underneath the overlay you wore a T-shirt so needless to say the complete uniform was not only heavy but extremely hot. Because of this and the fact that it was a very hot day, we were allowed to walk around with out the overlay until the second quarter began at which time we would put on the overlay and prepare for the show. With 8 minutes before halftime we placed the plumes in our hats and row by row left the stands on the visitor side and headed for the north endzone.
From my position in the endzone I looked up at the home side of the stadium and saw not one empty seat. The Hurricane fans had turned out to support their team and were majorly excited at their team's 14 point lead with a minute left in the first half. My focus was not so much on the score but what I had to do. I glanced both directions beside me and saw the rest of the band at parade rest and I smiled. I had made it. My mind quickly went back to those years in high school and marching at football games. Yeah, it was a learning experience and pretty darn cool, but now I was in the big-time. A major college football game and marching with people who were awesome at their instrument. Only the serious musician continued on after highschool, and here I was on the crest of my musical career in front of several thousand people. YESSSS!!!!
A quick drum major's whistle brought me out of my thoughts and back into the north endzone of Chapman Field, Tulsa Oklahoma.
What happened next happened so quickly, I was caught totally off guard and utterly incapable to remedy it. The half had ended, the teams run off to their respective locker rooms, our head drum major yells the command I had come to love, "BAND!", the band snaps to attention, with a drum whack and responds with "TEN HUT!!". Snap! (one suspender), snap!! (suspender # 2), snap (suspender # 3), PLEASE GOD DON'T LET... Snap!! All four of my suspenders had popped and my pants started that slow but sure fall. NOOOOOOO!!! In the mere seconds that this all happened, my mind went into panic mode which caused no clear thinking, so I couldn't devise or create a plan that would allow me to do the drumming I was supposed to do. I got our section leader Paula's attention and showed her what had happened and the biggest smile came upon her face as she strained to not burst out in laughter. She clicked the beginning of our cadence and off we went into our show, except I clicked my snares off and played the tom-tom part with one hand and the other holding my pants up. What was supposed to be a 15 minute program seemed like an hour. There were bursts of laughter from the Hurricane faithful, probably thinking this was part of our show. I was so embarassed and could think of nothing but packing up once we got back to Canyon and going back home to Jr College. Maybe news of this wouldn't make it back home if I left quickly enough. And what about Carol?? What would I tell her? Remember, she thinks I am cool, and hung the moon....Well, the crowd gave us a standing ovation, afterall it was a kickbutt halftime show. I just didn't play any major part of it. Paula covered the lead part with the solos and to this day Paula is the best drummer I have ever heard, hands down. As we were filing back into the stands to get ready for the second half and me still holding my pants up, I caught the band director's wife (or Mom as we all called her) waving for me to come over. I made my way over to her, sat down and as she put her arms around me hugged me, gave me 4 huge safety pins and smiled that smile only a mother could smile.
I don't remember how the game ended. I just waited for an endless barrage of heckling or jokes coming my way, but none came. Never. Not on the way back to Canyon, not ever again. So, slowly as the year went on and football season ended I forgot all about it. Oh, it comes up every once in awhile in my mind but not for long.
Things have a way of working out for the better. Later that year I tryed out and made the Concert Band. We were honored to be chosen with only three other concert bands in the nation to attend and play for the College Band Director's National Conference in Berkley, California. It was there I heard the Brigham Young University Concert and fell in love with concert music. As our band got on stage and played our selections I was so proud of us and me too, because I had yet another snare solo, this time in front if the country's most revered musical geniuses AND four secured suspenders.
"That which does not kill us, makes us stronger"...... Maybe or maybe not, Freddy, but you DO get up, brush yourself off and head on back on that road.
No comments:
Post a Comment