We are still hanging out in Junior High, a little later in the day than Mr. Thomas' class. I was the second chair clarinet player in Advanced Band. Between moving up to become one of the best musicians and the fact that I was generally very friendly and outgoing, somehow I had become a very popular person....at least in the band circle. I had tons and tons of friends that year. I always had a fun group to eat lunch with, I received lots of Valentine Candygrams, I was constantly passing notes to both boys and girls. I still didn't have a boyfriend, but I was very well known and well liked. Truth be told, all of these things served to give my ego a well-needed boost, but it also gave me a pretty big head.
Mr. Short, our beloved band teacher, may have contributed to some of it. For example, he offered me the Drum Major role for the Christmas Parade. It was a coveted role and remains one of the things I regret today, for I turned him down. I was enjoying goofing off in the last row of the parade and flirting with my crush. All of my friends were shocked that I turned it down so I rushed back in to take it back...but it was too late. So that was my first clue that I was well liked and talented. Mr. Short also supported and encouraged healthy rivalry and competition amongst the band members. We were allowed the opportunity to challenge the person ahead of us to a playing duel, if you will. The loser had to wait 2 weeks to challenge again. There were challenges here and there throughout the band, but none more rigorous than between me and Art (the more frequent #1 chair). We literally were challenging every 2 weeks. I will never forget the day. Mr. Short ended class a few minutes early. He normally listened to challenges either before or after class, but perhaps he was feeling the drama. Everyone, literally EVERYONE, gathered around our 2 chairs. Art chose the 4 bars of music and when he got to bar 3, I knew I had it in the bag. He had the rhythm wrong. He finished, quite proud of himself, and I began playing with a grin on my face. When Mr. Short declared me the winner, it was like I was a rock star. I had taken down Art. It only lasted 2 weeks, but victory was sweet.
Then I got mean, I am sorry to say. People picked on Art, not to an extreme degree, but there was teasing. For starters, he played very athletically, moving his elbows up and down with the music. That is no excuse for what i did. I created verses to the tune of Do the Bartman... but I called it Do the Artman. I likely honestly thought I was teasing, more than being mean, but when no one really laughed, I should have realized it wasn't really in good taste. Luckily, that is about as far as I went...besides painting our shared band folder purple. Totally girly. When he asked me to dance at the 8th grade dance and later invited me and all of my girlfriends to his pool party later that summer, I knew there were no hard feelings. He had the last laugh in the end: when we got to high school, he was in the first row and I was way back in the third. Do the Artman: everybody flap your arms and fly away!
No comments:
Post a Comment