Last night I dreamt about something I hadn’t done for 14 years. I dreamt about being in the high school marching band. Somehow in this dream I was on a band trip. Our band director was somewhat of a disciplinarian, and in this episode he disciplined us for talking and disrepect by sending us back to the buses on a band trip.
I was more of less a placeholder in band. I held an instrument, played occassionally, but never practiced. I always got A’s in band (as everyone else did, but I’m not so sure I deserved it). I’m pretty sure my less than stellar effort was overlooked because my parents were so involved in the band fundraising activities.
In the dream I stood up to our band director. This is in contrast to real life, I never found myself standing up to our band director (as I never stood up against any other teachers). He demanded hard work, but was fair. I never walked away from band class thinking I had been done wrong. Band was just an activity that took up much of my time in the Fall. The reason why I quit was that I wanted more free time. I think myself and a group of my friends collectively decided to quit at the end of our junior year. And yet there was no waivering in it. Once I had made the decision that was it. I never wished to go back.
That senior year of high school served as almost as a transition period between high school days of band to the college days. I’d consider those sophomore and junior years in band as being almost identical. My senior year was different, as it is different for most everyone else also.