For all of the science I do, and did, music was always my first love. And I was a band “geek,” (though we we usually called a much less flattering word,) a competitive band geek at that. I learned hard work, and discipline, and responsibility…and I would be nowhere near the person I am today if I hadn’t been in the band.
Back in the day—don’t fall asleep!! It’s not one of those kinds of stories!!—it used to be cool to say “I’m with the band,” because for the most part, that meant you were a roadie or a groupie, or a friend of the band, hanging around to help out, move things, or provide all sorts of moral and immoral support.
But that’s not the kind of band I want to talk about here. No, this band is the high school band; in the fall, it is the marching band, focus of half-time shows at football games, and the highlight of most parades (unless you happen to like the politicians or the screaming fire trucks, that is). In the spring it is the Concert Band and the Jazz Band. And for the longest time, it really wasn’t “cool” to admit you were with that band (marching, concert, or jazz), and that’s…
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