High School Band Day: fun yet frustrating.

This was the second year that I served as a Band Aide for Sierra High School's marching band, hailing from the Great American Little Town of Manteca, due just northwest of Modesto, the crown jewel of California. I've gotta say, I'm glad I chose to hang out with these guys again. I recognized a few of the faces from two years ago, but what really impressed me was that all the students who were here two years ago actually remembered me. And of course, Rick "The Hammer" Hammarstrom, their band director, was as prudishly awkward, witty, and hilarious as ever. (What else would you expect from a BYU grad who doesn't drink or curse yet loves listening to KMEL and Wild 94.9?)

Looking at the twenty-something high school bands in attendance yesterday (amounting to a disgustingly high ~2300 students), I think Sierra was one of the most unique bands present. They're a small band - forty or so students - without a drum major and without a whole lot of history or experience (Sierra opened in 1994); Hammer is the only band director they've ever known. After my first time helping them two years ago, I thought to myself, "Well, that was fun, but wasn't quite worth the trouble. I don't think I'll do it again."

And because I have the memory capacity of a turnip, I decided to be a band aide again this year, and rubbing together the two brain cells I have left through all the alcohol poisoning I've exposed them to over the past couple years, I somehow managed to recall what a fun, ragtag group of kids they were. Therefore, I decided to go with Sierra again.

This year, however, made me realize something entirely different about their band: they are the marching band equivalent of the Gutty Little Bruins. They have pretty nice-looking uniforms, but it's clear that the uniforms are kinda old and tattered. The students aren't precise or disciplined in their performance, nor are any of them particularly magnificent musicians. They're a competent marching band. But man, do these guys know how to have fun. I learned a few damn good jokes from them. All of them seemed to be friends - they didn't seem clique-ish or anything, and that's probably because the band is so small. Their drum cadences are upbeat and just plain fun. They're not the best marching band in the world, but it's definitely clear that they're very proud of what they do. Who could ask for anything more than that? (Other than a Rose Bowl)
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Tom and I were cracking a joke about how Colorado State was probably playing so poorly because they weren't used to the low-altitude air and getting hit with all this oxygen. They were probably high off all that O2.
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Hey $C fans, be careful not to break your legs jumping off the bandwagon.