Sunday, February 18, 2018

Band Concert

       We marched in, the three of us, in red graduation robes we had borrowed for the occasion.  The band was seated on the canvas spread over the center of the high school gymnasium. 
     The key to begin our slow march from the gym doorway to center stage had been an introduction of three VIP college professors, or some other such nonsense.  Part of this was a setup, the band instructor having recruited us to play the role.  We had made a sort of run-through earlier that day during band period. 
     It was the last concert of the year.  The musicians had been to their spring contests.  They had rehearsed and practiced.  They were in peak performance mode.  Being the final performance, a feeling of relaxation and fun replaced the tension of playing before judges with sharp pencils.
    Pomp and Circumstances accompanied our slow step-pause-step entrance.  The song ended before we had reached our place in the percussion section.  Bill and I followed the principal’s lead and continued our slow pace even though the music had ended.
      We took our place among garbage bags filled with inflated balloons, garbage cans with drumsticks and mallets at hand.  We took our time getting the balloons arranged, the hammers close at hand, the garbage cans within reach.
     It wasn’t the first time I had colluded with this band instructor.  On another occasion I played the man-on-the-street (think Don Knots, complete with the nervous shakes to be on camera) selected out of the crowd to accompany a group of singers and players on the piano.  It had to be a simple piece for me to play it, but I did it.
      At another spring concert, three faculty members joined the band in the rhythm section.  I was the “Cymbal-Simon” who had one note to play at the climax of the song, but just couldn’t get it right, until after three or four tries.
      Over the years, I had joined many stage bands, filling in where there was a need or a place, bass guitar, saxophone, rhythm guitar.  No one was particularly surprised to see faculty participation in a concert, particularly the spring concert.
      I think the band played the 1812 Overture.  It called for sounds of war towards the end.  The three faculty members supplied the war noise by popping balloons, hammering garbage cans, etc.  The bass drummer helped out with booms timed much more accurately than our unorganized noise. 
     The script called for us to spread out our balloon popping in order to last through the end of the piece.  But we had planned, the idea of the principal, a little more realistic war noise at the end.  He recruited three track starter pistols, complete with shells that smoke prolifically so the timekeepers can see when the gun fires.
     Our robes provided the perfect camouflage to smuggle in our arms without alerting anyone.  At the right time, we started hammering balloons and garbage cans with abandon.  We popped all the balloons, well ahead of schedule.  At a signal from the principal, Bill and I pulled out our track pistols and all three of us began firing.
      The first crack of a pistol got the band director’s attention, but he caught on quickly and didn’t miss a beat.  Band students, those that could, turned to look at us and the unexpected smoke and noise.
     We ran out of ammunition a bit before the song ended, but it didn’t matter.  We were a big hit with the kids and the audience.  I’m not so sure how big of a hit we were with the band man.
     Unfortunately, I have the opportunity to be reminded of this event far too frequently.  I think of it every time there is a school shooting. 
      What would happen to anyone, let alone a high school principal and two teachers, if they tried to pull a stunt like that now?  Unimaginable. 
      It is easy to say that that was a simpler, more innocent time.  It didn’t seem simple and innocent when we were living it.  Can you imagine a time when what we are going through now will seem simple or innocent?
                       


      

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