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My Favorite Things


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In an effort to "look on the bright side" of things, I wanted to reach out on a personal level to help find things that remind us all what is so awesome about EVERYTHING that is drum corps. I know there are many discussions about "what's wrong with", "what's annoying about", "what's disappointing in", and "what's destroying" the activity. I know that all are entitled to their own opinions and I do appreciate expression. However, sometimes in the details of who dislikes whom, which show, which year, and which music, costume, drill or whatever, we forget to also appreciate the magic that's always there, all around us, EVERY year.

So, I just wanted to share my top three magical things (for today) about the activity--things with which I fall in love, every year all over again. This is my seventeenth summer involved in the activity and, many times over the course of a summer, I'm swept away by even the simplest of things that remind me how much I still get out of it all. Feel free to add yours, too. I just wanted to have a zone to visit on DCP that is ONLY filled with the good stuff. Thanks!

1) Warming up at shows as the sun slowly sets and you feel the electricity of the night (and the stadium lights come on!). It's usually peaceful and still, and you can actually "feel" the flavor of whichever small town you're in. Although you wonder if you may ever be standing in that spot again, for that short time you belong to it.

2) The sense of attachment that a section recognizes as they walk onto a field together. In unspoken looks and head nods, you're ready to "be in the moment" with these people--some of which you've only known for a few weeks.

3) Hearing the corps play through the show for the first time. After being away from it during the winter months (if you're a guard person), the intensity of the brass and percussion together gets me pumped EVERY time.

:thumbup:

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Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

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home shows.

Playing corps song for the final time of the season.

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I love the smell of bus fumes in the corps parking lot.

I loved getting out of uniform after a show and having that hour or so to eat and relax and hang out. It's the only time of day to really escape before doing it all over again the next day.

I loved the moments leading up to the final run-through during ensemble. You could feel the energy creeping back into your body and the relief that ensemble was almost over and you were about to perform the show.

The bus ride to the stadium in halves.....listening to Rage Against the Machine.

Waking up just as dawn broke and seeing the sign for Madison Wisconsin....Finals week had arrived.

Putting on that uniform for the very first time....(uniform fitting in April) I almost teared up...it all started to seem real at that moment.

The first show.

The last show.

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Ditto the bus fumes.

The sound of drums in the distance. I remember waking up at my hotel in Jackson, Miss., in 1993, venturing out to check out the pool and hearing drums I couldn't see. Turns out it was BD practicing nearby. Didn't matter. It was as if drum corps filled the world.

Watching drum corps with rookies. Whether rehearsal or the real deal, I love to witness that moment when the rookies realizes marching band can be so much more than he imagined. I remember a Crossmen run-through before finals in 2000 as the school's maintence crew watched. They told me how much they liked it and asked who this band was. I explained who they were and why there were here. And I told them Crossmen were in sixth place that day. One replied: How can there be five bands better than that?

Genuine emotion on the field. I'm not talking about the horn guy who over-swings the jazz section or the guard girl who plays a part. I'm talking about the moment when it all comes together - the effort, the achievement, the pain and the pride - and the marcher gives it up without affect or shame because the feelings were just so profound. I remember watching Colts at finals a couple of years ago play that wonderful ballad from Henry V as one young woman in the pit let loose a stream of tears. She seemed not to miss a note. But that glorious music and that glorius moment of hers ...

HH

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