Infamous Drum Corps Members

[susantaylor40]

John Robbins loved to tell this story...

It was a senior show in some little town in the States. KW Flying Dutchmen and the Guelph Royalaires were part of the show, and infamous rivals. The local fire hall had a big brass bell hanging in front of it. man, that town loved that bell. Somehow, after the festivities of said show, the bell disappeared. The sponsors were livid... if that bell was not returned there would be no more contests held there. All the participating corps were notified of such. John, knowing is Dutchmen members very well, called the corps together and made it clear that IF someone has the bell, that they were to return it to him ASAP. Low and behold, the bell magically appeared overnight on John's front step. John carefully wrapped it up, drove to Guelph, and mailed it back to the sponsors. No name, no return address, just a postal mark.

[jwscv87]

OK... well, as long as we aren't naming names here, I will say that many... MANY... of the Kilts guys, pretty much when they were an all guys corps, but even some when they were co-ed... were "infamous" for sometimes making sure we ALL knew what they wore under their kilts.

I didn't need to see that, actually. But sadly, I was in the wrong place at the wrong times sometimes....

Ditto for Black Watch (WA) - we went "Regitmental" under the kilts.

Edited July 17, 2010 by jwscv87

[StanDrumz]

THE STORY OF GARF

(Or, better living through ceremonial biodiversification)

Geneseo Knights, 1982

It was Garf. With a respectful nod to previous posts, Garf was not a bucket, it was actually an old Miracle Whip jar. The drum line had their Dirt Bag, which held samples of dirt or grass from every place they had been (which indeed warranted very serious ceremony), and the horn line had Garf. Like the drum line's Dirt Bag ceremonies, Garf ceremonies were serious for the horn line, but Garf was as much about absurdly creative biohazard curiosity as it was about iconic representation.

I remember it like it was yesterday... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[He says, looking up and stroking his chin. Insert wavy dreamy flashback visual effects and harp strums here.]

Garf came into being in the fall of 1981, the very first rehearsal of the '82 season, in the corps' 2nd story rehearsal hall in Geneseo Illinois, across from Happy Joe's Pizza. The horn line rehearsed in a cramped room on the south side of the building, fitted with low risers like a typical band room, but much smaller. The corps was growing, and it showed. We were crammed in like sardines, shoulder-to-shoulder, excited by the momentum we had built the previous season and thrilled to see all the warm bodies in the room. For a traditionally smaller corps making an aggressive move into Open Class, overcrowding on Day One was a very good thing. I was still playing soprano at the time so I was on the opposite side of the room and had a perfect view of Garf's moment of birth, so to speak, that I still remember vividly to this day.

Despite your section - horn, drums or guard - first runs through new music were never pretty. There was a lot of slugging through passages where we would wade forward until our playing utterly crashed and burned. We were trying to make it through the music at least once without having to stop and pick up the pieces. As these things go, that meant a lot of down time for the other sections while the instructors worked with a given section to sort things out.

At one point, Gregg Neuleib was conducting, working quite seriously with the Mellophones on a tricky passage. The rest of us were watching, somewhat bored. A dirty, empty Miracle Whip jar from who-knows-what, was sitting on the window sill, right next to Bob Snow and the Contras. Bob looked especially bored, which was never a good thing. (How many adventures could start with that statement!) Bob sees the jar. Bob looks at the infamous Bill Lehman (now deceased and forever missed). Bill looks at Bob. Bill arches his eyebrows and smiles wryly. Bob picks up the jar and smiles. With a wet flatulent sound, Bob empties the contents of his Contra via the spit valve, into the jar. Bill grins in approval. Bob grins in approval. Bob and Bill steal a wary glance back at Greg, who is head-down deep into troubleshooting mode with the Mellophones. With the coast clear enough to risk it, Bob passes the jar down the line to Andy Bergland, who makes his contribution, grinning. Andy slyly passes it down the line. At some point Tom Huntley makes his deposit, grinning from ear to ear and looking like he is going to burst.

And no one had to say a word.

Having witnessed this exchange, the rest of the sections knew just what to do when their turn came. Grinning, snickering, passing the jar slowly and stealthily while stealing sly glances to see if they were about to get caught, the rest of the horn line made their deposits, one by one. I think Garf made it into the Baritones before it reached someone who had not witnessed the activity and had to be given whispered instructions on what to do. Until that point, not a word had been spoken. Classic Bill and Bob. By the time The Jar That Would Be Garf made it to the Mellophones, everyone in the room (except the instructors) were wise to what was going on. I don't think the instructors noticed until it made it halfway through the sopranos. In retrospect our horn line bonded, right there, that first day. The tone was set for the rest of the season.

Okay, remember, this is only the fall. Months pass. Winter rehearsals came and went, giving way to spring. At some point during the winter, the jar became Garf. Like today's roaming gnome, Garf went everywhere the Knights went. Garf was deployed at rehearsals. Garf went to our marathon all-nighter winter camps. As the season progressed, Bill and Bob started adding more diverse content, so to speak. A dead bird here, a frog from somewhere else, mystery substances that were unidentifiable but looked promising, grass from just about every place we stayed, and of course, more from the spit valve. It was like scrapbooking, but wetter. And chunkier. And certainly more repulsive.

Once Garf started bubblling and hissing of its own accord, Bob built a small wooden box approximately 10 inches on a side and a foot tall, placed padding on the inside, added a lid, painted all of it silver, affixed a handle, hasp and lock, and fitted it with a long 2-person carrying pole made from a length of electrical conduit. The crowning touches were the bright yellow (and absolutely genuine) radioactive biohazard stickers affixed to it. Where Bob got those stickers from, was anyone's guess. I remember being very impressed, but not surprised in the least that he had somehow managed to procure them.

By the time the Garf containment vessel was deployed, I had moved from Soprano to Contra. These were my kind of people. I remember when Bob first brought the containment vessel to rehearsal and rightfully showed off his handiwork with pride. It was, and remains to this day, a truly impressive bit of backyard fabrication.

As the season progressed, different horn players would assist with the movement of Garf from place to place and the subsequent venting ceremonies, which became fewer and fewer because, well, that part is obvious. It finally got to the point where opening Garf was something reserved for special occasions or really big shows, and then only long enough to make an addition. On a day-to-day basis, they would just let it stew.

While on the move, Garf usually rode somewhere in the back of bus "Knight Moves", where Bill and Bob lived. As some Knights might recall, we had fitted the back seat area with gray-painted styrofoam "rocks" to make it look like a cave. (The red lighting, fish netting and fake hanging vines and ferns were an especially nice touch for Bill and Bob's lair, but I digress.) Garf was chained to the instructor scaffolding at least once. If you were a rookie or you otherwise annoyed Bob or Bill, they would chain Garf to your ankle while you were asleep. This was an especially effective deterrent with guard members.

I used to have a photo of the Garf containment vessel, in all it's silver glory. I'll have to dig through the photos to see if that image has survived. If so, I'll post it.

As for Garf itself? Whereabouts unknown.

Stan Maddox

Soprano '81, Contra '82

[byline]

It was like scrapbooking, but wetter.

Best line of the day, LOL!

Thanks for the laugh, Stan!

[Tansea]

Not sure I'd call him a black sheep, but definitely infamous in BD - Ladies and Gentlemen, Arthur West! (RIP)

Where is Art West ?(R.I.P.)

[HollywoodNeoCon]

"...the infamous Bill Lehman (now deceased and forever missed)"

This is the first I've heard that Bill is no longer with us.

I was there the night he was accepted into the Round Table. He and Bob stayed up all night acting like a couple of kids. Guess we were all kids back then, huh?

Thanks for the exceptionally well-written story of Garf, Stan. You appear to have marched the line with Bob the year before I did. Sent ya a private message. Hope to hear back from ya.

[Tansea]

What of Zeke Billigan and Beth Ethel Barnes?

[flugelswerebugels]

Where is Art West ?(R.I.P.)

I heard through the grapevine that he passed away - no idea where or when. I'd love to learn that I am misinformed, though.

[Goldsmith1210]

Lucky Day: *Reading telegram* "Three Amigos, Hollywood, California. You are very great. 100,000 pesos. Come to Santa Poco put on show, stop. The Infamous El Guapo."

Dusty Bottoms: What does that mean, infamous?

Ned Nederlander: Oh, Dusty. Infamous is when you're MORE than famous. This man El Guapo, he's not just famous, he's IN-famous.

Lucky Day: 100,000 pesos to perform with this El Guapo, who's probably the biggest actor to come out of Mexico!

Dusty Bottoms: Wow, infamous? Infamous?

...beat me to it.

[DoubleHighEZ]

I heard through the grapevine that he passed away - no idea where or when. I'd love to learn that I am misinformed, though.

Yes, it's true. Art passed away many years ago. What a character!