Next in Line: [Part 3] Sandwiches and Onions

“What a weird sandwich, though I’ve been through weirder…. You get used to them.”1


School started now that the leaves have begun to dry out, the days have been warm but cooling fast. Friends have been reunited, and my friends and I were no different. Most of my friends aren’t in band, so I’ve not seen them since June when we were middle school kids. High school presented itself as confusing to some, but since practically living there for marching band, I had learned every turn. Of course I had most hated class though for this semester, gym. When I arrived there the only friend I knew was Tracy. She was in band in middle school, she played clarinet. Of course we met new friends swiftly as if nothing about these new groups were different. We, of course, favored the outcast groups more so until we had a group of about 10 outcasts to 35 others of other social group. Gym wasn’t so bad then, we all hung together, refusing to do sports or run until the coaches were just happy to get us to walk, or play our only favorite game, tennis. Gym came easy therefore and so was one of my more exciting classes.2

Shocking to all of my friends though, what should’ve been my favorite class was my least favorite. Concert band, the most prestigious band was thrown on me and took me for a loop. Jared and I were the only tuba players against about nine flutes; seven clarinets; five trumpets; seven saxophones; two french horns; three trombones; and about nine percussion. Of course getting into this band was a privilege, hard to achieve. Some of the wind band students tried all their years for this band. So once in this band you were expected to know your instrument in and out, music forwards and backwards, and as a tuba player expectation was to be loud. Jared had all the skills necessary for his position, I fell short in comparison. Any day he wasn’t there, the band fell apart under my influence. A lot of pieces included big tuba parts. Stress really came into reality then, to try to even slightly compare to Jared or even just to make the director feel he did right by placing in such a high position.3


Jared and Ben came to me one day after school, before after school marching band could start. “Why don’t you come over to one of our houses one day for a lesson? You’re not loud enough on tuba, or baritone even. It’s probably technique.” 4

I appreciated their offer but after dealing with music Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for marching band, then on Tuesdays and Thursdays staying after to work on concert band music, I had enough music in my life and was growing tired of it quickly. “Thanks you guys, that would really help but I know I would have a ride and I stay after everyday and just couldn’t drag you guys with me.”5

“You stay after on Tuesdays, right?” Jared persisted until I nodded. “You and I will have a sectional then.”6

“You stay after on Thursdays, right?” Added Ben and I nodded. “Good, we’ll stay after to work on your marching, you need to stay in step as well as play with good musical tone.” 7

Unable to argue since they knew my schedule so well, I nodded my agreement and thanked them with a bitter heart. I continued out to the marching band field with my stand up baritone, not meant for marching but I still liked it. I still walked out to marching band alone most of the time. Occasionally I walked with the colorguard though, they took pity on me first since I took pity on them. The band never treated them as equals, it was obvious. In reality we all had it hard, they marched, danced, twirled flags, knew music and forms, and had to be sure not to hit us. The band, played instruments, memorized notes and music, tuned, marched (of course), and knew forms. They never received credit though for the work they do. Even Mr. Nelson showed he didn’t like the colorguard. Since the day we got a thunderstorm and made us stay out for awhile until it was unbearable due to thunder and lightning, the colorguard held a grudge. He made jokes about them, “just imagine it.” He had said, pretending to hold a flag, “a spark of lightning come along and fry them. Their hair would be sticking up all crazy like an afro or something!”Inside, the voice of reason told me that was harsh and mean, but I still laughed as everyone else did too. 8

Marching band season would end in about a month or two now, we’d done one football game by now. All that was left was 5 home games to play at, 2 away, and 5 competitions. Concert band was my real concern that was left, I knew my marching music forwards and backwards, my concert band music….I was lucky to know one line while looking at the music before me. All my other classes which included: Honors Biology, Gym, and World Studies I were no sweat for me. 9

The next day I walked to Biology early, saying good morning to my teacher tiredly he smiled. “Good morning, you look tired?” He questioned, used to me being a bit perkier than this but this morning I was tired. The night before was marching band, then I had to come home, practice for concert band then do a project on a book for his class. The book Michael Crichton’s “Next” was a great book but the paper was pretty sucky to write late at night. As if he had read my mind, he added in, “band takes a lot of time doesn’t? How is that going for you?”10

“I live in band,” I said jokingly, “but it is seriously taking over my life. It’s a little stressful but I’ll deal with it, it’s a learning experience after all. Besides I like staying busy, and I like learning as much as possible.”11

“Yes, this is true. What do you plan to major in once you get to college?”12

“Biotechnology,” I replied, knowing that’d make him happy, but it was the truth. Ever since taking the class back in 6th grade, I had fallen in love with Biotech, even when an onion exploded on me, I still liked the study. Though, that could also be what caused my hatred of onions?...13

“That’s a great study, technology improves every day and there’s always something living near to study. You’ll get a job easy, a good paying one too.” He smiled before adding in, voice going serious, “so how’s the band director by the way?”14

“Oh, he’s cool. I’ve learned more in the past 3 weeks than I have in 3 years of middle school. He’s really nice too.” At that he nodded as if in thought before I changed the topic, “I finished my paper for Honors. What’s the next project.”15

“Oh that’s great, go ahead and put it in the basket over there. Then the next project you ask? Hmm I think it’s either the DNA model or the onion dissection and DNA replication with teacher observation.”16

Smirking, those darn onions….17

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Concert band rolled around that day fairly quickly, we all sat down to play through the tunes for our upcoming concerts, and of course my favorite song, The Flight of the Piasa. The only song I really understood the music and the meaning behind it. At the end of practice Mr. Nelson had a special announcement. “I am proud of you all, you all have greatly improved. I would like to recognize those who’ve really put their work and time into their improvement. I will be doing this once every week from today to the end of the year. These two people I’m recognizing have really improved a great deal since the first day I met them.” I frowned a little on the inside, knowing I wasn’t one. Every day he told me I needed to be louder, I needed to be more confident, I needed to be independent. First, he walked up to the trumpet player, Dallas. “First is Dallas,” handing him a band jacket, and a candy bar. “Next is someone I’m very proud of.” Immediately, I knew he was referring to Jake, the freshman french horn player who had taken on a solo when his section leader got tendentious. “Charlotte,” Mr. Nelson brought me a jacket and a candy bar as well, I was still in shock though as he handed it to me, I thanked him and the low section cheered. Surely this was a sick little dream that was sweet to taste but would be sick in the end when I awoke to reality. I blinked hard and sure enough….I was awake in reality that this was no dream. Happy, I put on my new jacket as we were dismissed and approached Mr. Nelson to thank him once more.
Afterwards the trombone player named Will congratulated me. “Nice job, I’m going to have to work that hard to get me a jacket too!” I laughed sensing his sarcasm. “Hey, I’m serious, those things are twenty bucks, money that I ain’t got! But really though, great job.”19

I put away my tuba and headed down stairs for lunch. My friends from gym noticed my jacket from band and I told them how I got it and they congratulated me. I was thrilled that I’d actually earned this along with Mr. Nelson’s pride, and I was determined to never let anything happen to this jacket.20

After school came, Jared forgot his planned sectional with me but Ben remembered his marching sectional with me. He grabbed Jared and they took me out to the marching band field. “We’ve really got to get you in step.” Informed Ben, as drum major it was his job to be sure everyone knew their forms and music, as well as that they knew what was going on. Section leaders do basically the same exact thing only a bit more precisely to the people in their section. They first attempted to see which tempo caused me trouble. Starting with slow tempos, to their surprise I had no trouble. Raising the tempo next, to their surprise again I was out of step. Now they put in between them, shoulder to shoulder and allowed me to look down to watch their feet to get in step. Jared laughed, throwing his voice into his creepy man voice as he added, “mmm….this is a weird sandwich, though I’ve seen weirder.”21

“I’ve been through weirder!” Ben also threw his voice into creepiness and I shook my head holding back from busting out laughing before Ben added seriously. “There is no such thing as weird awkwardness band though, you’ll get used to it.” Chuckling at himself uncontrollably.22

Ben reached over me since he was tall enough to reach over me and smack Ben. “Don’t be scaring my little freshman,” looking to me grinning he added, “he loves being in….”23

“Shut up Jared, you’ll scare my little baritone buddy! Ain’t that right Char?”24

“Umm…. It takes a lot to scare me?” I wasn’t too sure how to reply, if there is no awkwardness among the band then what would they consider awkward outside of band?25

“Good then.” They both said at the same time.26

“Aren’t we supposed to be marching right now?” I prompted, hoping to get back on task, bringing the two to frown.27

“You’re definitely no fun.” Ben sighed but in the end started the count off at a fast tempo so we could refocus. Luckily they didn’t bring up anymore weird topics the rest of the lesson, and stayed focused.28

That afternoon, all the band members who stayed after gathered to collect their things and go to either the bus or with a parent, for some even walk. I put away my baritone and grabbed my bags. “Hey can anyone give me a ride!?” Jared yelled out to the band room. I would’ve offered but knew he lived uptown and I lived way downtown. I stuck around a while though to be sure he’d get a ride, if he couldn’t I’d somehow get my mom to take him with us. “My parents are working late.” I heard him explaining to some friends before Mr. Nelson approached.
“How late are they working?” Mr. Nelson asked as Jared explained until about eight or nine o’clock that night. “If you need a ride home I’ll drive you then.” Mr. Nelson offered, “you live along the way anyhow.” At that Jared thankfully nodded, promising he’d give him gas money but Mr. Nelson refused. “It’s either I drive you or hang here all night until you get a ride. I’m pretty sure it’d get boring fast.” At that Jared thanked him, and I could leave knowing my section leader had a way home.29

Perhaps it was my bad, not offering at all to give Jared a ride to his house. Since I’d soon discover that the following weeks Jared talked to me very little. What had I done wrong now? I never seem to be able to anything right as it is seems. Was it my trying to get them to focus on marching band rather than sandwiches? Was it me not offering to take Jared home? Was it me unwilling to take a tuba solo in Flight of the Piasa since I knew I wouldn’t play it loud enough or well enough? What had I done this time? Now Ben got so where he was distancing himself as well. Through observation I realized the only way to regain approval in marching band was to be right on something, or help your section leader when he or she forgot music. Or the other option that reminded me all too well that humans are animals too, you’d have to offer something. Food, or drink and if they really liked it, it seemed to me you got favor with the person. Humans are animals, though more specialized, we may claim we’re way different but when you’re able to observe a group of people together for many hours at a time you can pick up behaviors of other animals. Wolves, lions, tigers, bears, sharks, or birds, somehow we keep that connection to nature. I believe it's programed into us as children. What's awkward, what's not; what food we hate and like; what behavior we have. What are us bandies then? Are we really a human family or more like a pack of animals? The ability to cooperate, the power to destroy each other, the need for acceptance, leadership, and company, or the opposite which would be a group of lost loners, chaos, and emptiness? Or do I think things through too much and really this is nothing special or new?.....30

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