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'Change and Reality"


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"I grew up in the 1960's. As a boy, "reality" was ALWAYS just beyond the front door of my house. That door led to a world far bigger than the confines of my small bedroom. I lived in a "subdivision". This was an entire prefabricated neighborhood of "cookie cutter" houses. They were built quickly and cheaply, for returning Korean War Veterans. As such, those houses filled up almost daily with young families. With each new family came the kids who would become my schoolmates and friends.

Reality was as accessible as a game of hide and seek, camping out in backyards, exploring the woods and building ramshackle tree houses. There were plenty of kids to share these adventures with! A sense of "community" was ever-present among the residents. You were as likely to be "scolded" by the next door neighbor as you were by your own parents and this was the rule rather than the exception!"

"As grade schoolers, us kids never realized that we would grow up as a "group". We would soon be learning to drive, attending prom, having girlfriends and boyfriends,

and share in each new experience, as we came of age. By design or by fate, it would be thus, that we would encounter the "turmoil" that would come to define our generation. The old subdivision still stands today. The twigs that were planted proudly by our parents have now become tired old trees, grown so tall now as to appear out of scale with the little prefab houses. The streets and sidewalks that were filled with kids, bicycles, skates and such, are largely void of the racket that was usually present in the old days. (the houses now are home to retirees and empty nesters.) So "compact" in design, privacy was at times a luxury. once in a while, "family secrets" would come spilling out the front door of one of the homes. The resulting ruckus drew small crowds like flies to a bug zapper! That was an event not to be missed! We humans are curious by nature and flock to such sights. The nieghborhood would be witness to our successes and failures, good and bad times, to our pain and our joy."

"One day, a War came to our little neighborhood. For the next 14 years, one by one, boys were going off to fight. Some to die and some to return forever changed by their experiences. When it was MY turn to go, I did so, admittedly with some trepidation and a healthy sense of caution. To this day I believe my sister was largely unconcerned (or perhaps held to herself her fear for my safety.) The "goings on" in the neighborhood seemed to simply "go on". Reality had changed for me and countless other young men. It was kids like US who filled the ranks of Drum and Bugle Corps. We had a sense of "community" from our earliest days. Entire neighborhoods held the membership of these small Corps. Attrition for the usual reasons; ageouts, marriages, college and such, were compounded by that war in Viet-Nam and the changes in society. More than a simple history lesson, The "turmoil" mentioned earlier tore entire families apart at the seams! What we were taught by our parents: patriotism, love of country, community, family values

all these were now being "questioned". There was no longer a right or wrong, good and bad. We kids now resided in a "gray area" somewhere in between Morality and

the new "Morals" being preached by radical elements of a society in disarray." Reality once again, had changed."

"Reality today is far different and a new "definition" has been coined. It can be found in video games. Or even on Television in the form of "Reality Shows" where, increasingly, it seems to be popular to air ones fraillties and failures on national broadcasts. Such ventures require little use of our "Imagination". There is little reason for a kid to get off the couch to seek entertainment, much less use antiquated principles like "imagination" as a source of inspiration. Rather than pronounce judgement on an entire generation, I remain hopeful that such is in fact, NOT the case. The challenge for all of us "kids" is to embrace "change". Nobody likes change. Change is unfamiliar and even uncomfortable. We don't have to accept change. We can protest it. We can mount a soapbox and "rail" against it. But change will come, regardless. Change HAS come. Far from the "Dinosaur" designation some are fond of using when referring to us "kids", we are nothing less than the "living history" of our beloved activity. As such, we should endeavor to be not just a source of "dusty old stories" but a relevant and useful resource! To do or be less than we are, is to deny the current participants the benefit of our collective experiences. I've learned a few things in the last 58 years. I am far away from that old neighborhood. The days we long for are long gone. The old trees are too tall, too tired and too "out of scale" for the little houses they surround".

"I am presently coming to terms with my advancing age and my mortality. Increasingly, "reality" comes with the death of friends and family members. It seems to come without warning and brutally so. It is a daily struggle to come to terms with "change". I have learned that in this present time, in this "brave new world" we find ourselves in, ONE concept still remains steadfast. "The bravest thing a man or woman can do in this life is to simply be themselves". It is in doing so that we can find success, compassion, acceptance and love. Being one's "self" is the first requirement for success! We "kids" have an opportunity to bestow upon the current generation the gift of "Imagination". It was a gift that served us well in our youth. It's still there, waiting to be discovered once more."

This story is by no means unique. It was a story repeated in every neighborhood in the 1960's. It was a decade in which we kids saw the best and the worst of times.

Each of us have felt the "sting" of the loss of friends, sometimes violently so, from those old days. I can still visit my old friends, some in person and some by travelling to Washington D.C. to a Black Granite Wall. I can still visit the old neighborhood and imagine the sights and noises that heralded summer vacation and endless adventures

in "questionably" constructed tree houses and street games. I can remember the first contest, the freshly cut grass, the smell of white shoe polish and the rush of adrenaline when our Drum Major called out: "Mark Time Mark". Who am I to question the current participants use of new "tools" to achieve such memories as these?" The actual difficulty in accepting and embracing the changes occurring in our activity lie in determining which changes are valid and required and which are simply "Adgenda" driven. Regardless, todays young participants will seek their success in whatever structure is presented to them. It may not be what we remember, but the "dream" is still the same as it was when WE were challenged to do things differently. This is the new "Reality".

The preceding is dedicated to Cozy Baker, who did all in his power to see that young "marchers" achieved THEIR dreams. Rest in the peace of our Lord, my old friend."

Edited by hairbear
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And the obligatory "disclaimer": "This "story" is rife with opinions, and each one is mine and mine alone. It is offered as entertainment and not particularly well written when I use "Brooklyn Mario" as my measure of success. HIS stories are indeed, well written! :thumbup:

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Steve, that was awesome.

Well-said, and from the heart. Thank you for sharing it with us.

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I miss Cozy so much. I only knew him for a few years but he was the best person I have met in this activity. He is by far the most genuine person I have ever known in my entire life.

I was playing beside Cozy at his last DCA public performance in 2008. He rushed off the field after the contest no where to be found. Then I come to find out he was working in the back ground doing double duty that night for the contest. That was Cozy.

He left his Music Liar on the stand and I did not see him again after that night to return it to him. He died a few months later.

I clip it to my music stand to remember him by. No telling the stories that Liar could tell if it could talk and the places it has been.

RIP my brother from another mother.

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I miss Cozy so much. I only knew him for a few years but he was the best person I have met in this activity. He is by far the most genuine person I have ever known in my entire life.

I was playing beside Cozy at his last DCA public performance in 2008. He rushed off the field after the contest no where to be found. Then I come to find out he was working in the back ground doing double duty that night for the contest. That was Cozy.

He left his Music Liar on the stand and I did not see him again after that night to return it to him. He died a few months later.

I clip it to my music stand to remember him by. No telling the stories that Liar could tell if it could talk and the places it has been.

RIP my brother from another mother.

and the person he rushed off to help was ME! He will always be remembered and missed...

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This story is by no means unique. It was a story repeated in every neighborhood in the 1960's. It was a decade in which we kids saw the best and the worst of times.

Each of us have felt the "sting" of the loss of friends, sometimes violently so, from those old days. I can still visit my old friends, some in person and some by travelling to Washington D.C. to a Black Granite Wall. I can still visit the old neighborhood and imagine the sights and noises that heralded summer vacation and endless adventures

in "questionably" constructed tree houses and street games. I can remember the first contest, the freshly cut grass, the smell of white shoe polish and the rush of adrenaline when our Drum Major called out: "Mark Time Mark". Who am I to question the current participants use of new "tools" to achieve such memories as these?"

In my mind I hear This Use To Be My Playground from A Leauge Of Their Own ... and ... truth be told ... we were in a league of our own ... HB's painting of subdivisions was everso present in the "burbs" of Bridgeport, where I grew up ... each time I see Lyon Estates in Back to the Future, I have a flashback to growing up in an urban setting, dominated by ethnic neighborhoods to the North, South, East and West ... then the great escape to neighboring towns where dozens of Lyon Estates arose almost overnight ... Bridgeport was a city dominated by war: WWII, Korea, Viet Nam ... Remigton Arms, GE, Bpt Brass, Carpenter Steel, International Harvester trucks and even Bpt Web who made army belts and bullet bandoliers ... factory after factory dotted the landscape of the Park City ...

The 60's ... like HB said ... the best of times ... the worst of times ... like each generation - the promise of the future ... then chaos ... JFK ... RFK ... MLK ... senseless murders ... the Newark riots ... the Chicago Seven ... The Summer of Love ... A MAN ON THE MOON ... Aquarius ... LBJ ... Nixon ... Viet Nam ... and yet, on the Drum Corps scene - wonderful things ... Carnegie Hall ... 65 Royal Airs ... 66 Skyliners ... the birth of DCA ... so much promise amid times of great uncertainty ...

Thanks Hair Bear ... thanks for the memories ... I too visit friends a the Black Granite Wall ... and celebrate the lives of those who returned ... and yes, I too am not as polished as Brooklyn Mario ... but ... I try, and share musings with him from time to time ... hope to meet you someday ...

Andy "just another kid of the 50's and 60's" Lisko

Edited by ajlisko
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and the person he rushed off to help was ME! He will always be remembered and missed...

You were at the Nashville show in 2008?

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no ed I wasn't...

I missed that you were referring to Nashville... I thought you were referring to championships... sorry

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no ed I wasn't...

I missed that you were referring to Nashville... I thought you were referring to championships... sorry

Cozy last field show was in NAshville

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"I grew up in the 1960's. As a boy, "reality" was ALWAYS just beyond the front door of my house. That door led to a world far bigger than the confines of my small bedroom. I lived in a "subdivision". This was an entire prefabricated neighborhood of "cookie cutter" houses. They were built quickly and cheaply, for returning Korean War Veterans. As such, those houses filled up almost daily with young families. With each new family came the kids who would become my schoolmates and friends.

Reality was as accessible as a game of hide and seek, camping out in backyards, exploring the woods and building ramshackle tree houses. There were plenty of kids to share these adventures with! A sense of "community" was ever-present among the residents. You were as likely to be "scolded" by the next door neighbor as you were by your own parents and this was the rule rather than the exception!"

"As grade schoolers, us kids never realized that we would grow up as a "group". We would soon be learning to drive, attending prom, having girlfriends and boyfriends,

and share in each new experience, as we came of age. By design or by fate, it would be thus, that we would encounter the "turmoil" that would come to define our generation. The old subdivision still stands today. The twigs that were planted proudly by our parents have now become tired old trees, grown so tall now as to appear out of scale with the little prefab houses. The streets and sidewalks that were filled with kids, bicycles, skates and such, are largely void of the racket that was usually present in the old days. (the houses now are home to retirees and empty nesters.) So "compact" in design, privacy was at times a luxury. once in a while, "family secrets" would come spilling out the front door of one of the homes. The resulting ruckus drew small crowds like flies to a bug zapper! That was an event not to be missed! We humans are curious by nature and flock to such sights. The nieghborhood would be witness to our successes and failures, good and bad times, to our pain and our joy."

"One day, a War came to our little neighborhood. For the next 14 years, one by one, boys were going off to fight. Some to die and some to return forever changed by their experiences. When it was MY turn to go, I did so, admittedly with some trepidation and a healthy sense of caution. To this day I believe my sister was largely unconcerned (or perhaps held to herself her fear for my safety.) The "goings on" in the neighborhood seemed to simply "go on". Reality had changed for me and countless other young men. It was kids like US who filled the ranks of Drum and Bugle Corps. We had a sense of "community" from our earliest days. Entire neighborhoods held the membership of these small Corps. Attrition for the usual reasons; ageouts, marriages, college and such, were compounded by that war in Viet-Nam and the changes in society. More than a simple history lesson, The "turmoil" mentioned earlier tore entire families apart at the seams! What we were taught by our parents: patriotism, love of country, community, family values

all these were now being "questioned". There was no longer a right or wrong, good and bad. We kids now resided in a "gray area" somewhere in between Morality and

the new "Morals" being preached by radical elements of a society in disarray." Reality once again, had changed."

"Reality today is far different and a new "definition" has been coined. It can be found in video games. Or even on Television in the form of "Reality Shows" where, increasingly, it seems to be popular to air ones fraillties and failures on national broadcasts. Such ventures require little use of our "Imagination". There is little reason for a kid to get off the couch to seek entertainment, much less use antiquated principles like "imagination" as a source of inspiration. Rather than pronounce judgement on an entire generation, I remain hopeful that such is in fact, NOT the case. The challenge for all of us "kids" is to embrace "change". Nobody likes change. Change is unfamiliar and even uncomfortable. We don't have to accept change. We can protest it. We can mount a soapbox and "rail" against it. But change will come, regardless. Change HAS come. Far from the "Dinosaur" designation some are fond of using when referring to us "kids", we are nothing less than the "living history" of our beloved activity. As such, we should endeavor to be not just a source of "dusty old stories" but a relevant and useful resource! To do or be less than we are, is to deny the current participants the benefit of our collective experiences. I've learned a few things in the last 58 years. I am far away from that old neighborhood. The days we long for are long gone. The old trees are too tall, too tired and too "out of scale" for the little houses they surround".

"I am presently coming to terms with my advancing age and my mortality. Increasingly, "reality" comes with the death of friends and family members. It seems to come without warning and brutally so. It is a daily struggle to come to terms with "change". I have learned that in this present time, in this "brave new world" we find ourselves in, ONE concept still remains steadfast. "The bravest thing a man or woman can do in this life is to simply be themselves". It is in doing so that we can find success, compassion, acceptance and love. Being one's "self" is the first requirement for success! We "kids" have an opportunity to bestow upon the current generation the gift of "Imagination". It was a gift that served us well in our youth. It's still there, waiting to be discovered once more."

This story is by no means unique. It was a story repeated in every neighborhood in the 1960's. It was a decade in which we kids saw the best and the worst of times.

Each of us have felt the "sting" of the loss of friends, sometimes violently so, from those old days. I can still visit my old friends, some in person and some by travelling to Washington D.C. to a Black Granite Wall. I can still visit the old neighborhood and imagine the sights and noises that heralded summer vacation and endless adventures

in "questionably" constructed tree houses and street games. I can remember the first contest, the freshly cut grass, the smell of white shoe polish and the rush of adrenaline when our Drum Major called out: "Mark Time Mark". Who am I to question the current participants use of new "tools" to achieve such memories as these?" The actual difficulty in accepting and embracing the changes occurring in our activity lie in determining which changes are valid and required and which are simply "Adgenda" driven. Regardless, todays young participants will seek their success in whatever structure is presented to them. It may not be what we remember, but the "dream" is still the same as it was when WE were challenged to do things differently. This is the new "Reality".

The preceding is dedicated to Cozy Baker, who did all in his power to see that young "marchers" achieved THEIR dreams. Rest in the peace of our Lord, my old friend."

Nice tribute. And I can identify with your story.

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