On the day that it happened, I was a drummer - A BIG BASS-DRUMmer. It was the first day of summer Band Camp 1988 and I had just got the harness adjusted on a drum so big I could hardly see over it.
I was a sophomore transfer to the school and new to marching band. The good news was that my previous semester of Orchestral triangle experience qualified me to be a bass drummer instead of a lowly cymbal player - so I was feeling pretty cool. We were in marching practice all morning, so I really didn't get a chance to talk to the other drummers until after lunch. I was assigned to Bass #4 (the easiest to play and the hardest to carry), so I was tired but excited.
It was break time and not quite everyone had piled into cars for run to the Circle K. The other 3 Bass players were girls and they all seemed to know each other pretty well .... and let just say they weren't very friendly to the new guy (or I was a total geek ... you make the call). With no one else to talk to I avoided the cymbal players and bravely approached the Snare Drum gods. This was dangerous since I had skipped at least 2 levels of aristocracy. (I should have made nice nice with the Bass girls, become a Tenor drum sycophant, or looked for my Saxophone friend. I deserved what happened:
Bass4: "Hey guys, hows it goin?"
Snare god#3 (lord of the hatchback wagon): "Hey"
---- awkward pause ----
Bass4: "That drum major is marching us to death"
Snare god#2 (lord of crude hand gestures and drum stick imagery): "whatever"
Bass4: "So do you guys practice a lot?"
Snare god#1 (blessed be hs name): "This is the hardest music we will ever play as drummers - everything else is down hill from here .... just chick-chick-bop and boom bitti boom boom and rat a tat tat splash." Note - This is drum-speak for Rock, Rap, and Michael Bolton music.
Snare god#4 (lowliest of all the gods): "So what kind of music do you listen to? Note - I should have just taken my word from the mountain and just walked away before this question was asked.
Bass4: "I like a little bit of everything - as long as it's played well"
Snare god #1 (blessed be his name): "Do you like Rush?"
------ Oh dear God .... I don't know who Rush is much less, the drummers name .... I'm going to look stupid! What if I say he's good and he sucks ... I better play it safe ..... ----------
Bass4: "The keyboard players pretty good"
All 4 Snare gods: Evil Laughter
Snare god #4 (newly apointed lord of embarrassment): "Hey Kristin (a.k.a. Bass #3 - High Priestess of Bass drums), your new Bass drummer thinks Rush's keyboard player is pretty good"
Showing posts with label Drums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drums. Show all posts
Friday, February 16, 2007
Sunday, April 23, 2006
3 Drops, 4 Misses, 2 Errors (# 97)
C-Man and I got rear-ended on the way back home from a Ranger event this weekend. My van is a bit of a mess, but overall we have felt very blessed that no one was hurt. We stopped at a yellow light that was turning red on Shawnee Mission Parkway ... the guy behind us was apparently convinced that he was going to make it through it.
I'd been telling myself and everyone else that I was doing fine ... until this morning. I wasn't as sore as I expected and I felt fine driving to church - but I dropped 3 sticks during the worship service. It's not like I've never dropped a stick before; but never more than 1 in a day, and usually when I'm playing a lot harder. The drops were most likely caused by misses .... sort of the drummers equivelant of an air-ball. I was pretty rattled ... in fact I lost my place in the rhythm twice.
I don't think it's a physical problem - everything seems to be working fine and I played normally during the "warm up/sound check" just 15 minutes before. I guess I'm just jittery.
I'd been telling myself and everyone else that I was doing fine ... until this morning. I wasn't as sore as I expected and I felt fine driving to church - but I dropped 3 sticks during the worship service. It's not like I've never dropped a stick before; but never more than 1 in a day, and usually when I'm playing a lot harder. The drops were most likely caused by misses .... sort of the drummers equivelant of an air-ball. I was pretty rattled ... in fact I lost my place in the rhythm twice.
I don't think it's a physical problem - everything seems to be working fine and I played normally during the "warm up/sound check" just 15 minutes before. I guess I'm just jittery.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
And One Time ... At Band Camp ....
Back in the Bixby days, I was captivated by classical, medieval, and renaissance art. I had books and books of paintings and sculptures and mosaics. I couldn't do it now, but I used to be able to identify all sorts of famous pieces. This made be a bit of a nerd, but it fueled my great passion towards all things Knightly. I would spend hours sketching the "perfect" suit of armor for king, or his champion defender of the realm. Keep in mind that this was all in elementary school - so I didn't think to much about how heavy it would be to walk around in or how much he would be able to see in battle ... or how the courageous knight would get in and out of the thing for that matter.
As we are in the "Season of the Lion", I'll go a bit off track here to recall just how wonderfully it was to see the 4 kings and queens back in their old hall in 'Prince Caspian'. I got so excited when Susan found the golden chess piece (a knight of course). By the time they had broken the wooden door and gone down into the old treasure hall full of suits of armor and mail and swords and helms .... oh it was heaven. Alright then - back on track.
My love of "sketching" went rather dormant in Jr. High School, but when I had a chance to pick my first elective in 9th grade, I of course took Art - thinking that all my hereto unheralded talents would spring forth fully formed like Athena from Zeus's open head! Alas, it was not so - I was horrible. And not just in sketching; I was equally as improficient in watercolors, clay, and natural material dioramas. The art teacher mercifully gave me a "C" and let me transfer to my next great conquest, music.
There was an especially tall (and very red-headed) Junior in the orchestra that year. She played percussion in the back - so cool - so .... errrrr, black dress-wearing. - Ok, back on track. Her name was Chrissy, I think. Anyway, I asked the director if I could join the orchestra. He asked me what I played and when I told him "nothing" but I wanted to be a percussionist, suggested that I take some private lessons. I did and by the time the semester ended, I was sitting next to Chrissy (who wasn't nearly as nice as I had hoped) counting my way through long symphonic pieces while waiting for my occasional triangle or tambourine part. You see Chrissy had all the experience and was therefore the only one in the school that was allowed to touch a drum during and orchestral piece. - I'm not bitter ... really, I'm not.
The next year, we moved to another part of Springfield and a different high school. The Orchestra at Kickapoo H.S. required all percussionists to play in marching band as well ... soooo there I was at Band Camp. They called themselves "The Line". Six snare drums, 4 bass drums, 2 quads, and 3 cymbals and they were most of my world for 3 years.
To call it hazing, would be an overstatement; but I almost wish that it would have been tougher. Finally, I was a part of an army - my bass drum before me like a mighty shield. Two sword-like mallets and swiveled between puffy and staccato tips were my weapons. I had a faceless uniform - and a hat with a plume .... oh, and a cape!
I followed orders, stood at attention for what seemed like days and walked around with sheet music taped everywhere. When you are a drummer in a marching band, you learn to "sing" the parts. This sounds a lot like Klingon Yodeling, but it's very effective. I can probably sing the bass drum part to 'Aztec Fire' and the Quad's part for 'West-Side" story even today. I'm also, pretty sure that I know every part (even the cymbals) of a Russian dance piece called "Tanz" that was our drum feature my senior year.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like to go to one of the big state schools and play for a college marching band (Evangel never had one). As a drummer, field percussion is about as exciting as it gets. Still I wouldn't trade my life now - even for a few more years in "The Line".
As we are in the "Season of the Lion", I'll go a bit off track here to recall just how wonderfully it was to see the 4 kings and queens back in their old hall in 'Prince Caspian'. I got so excited when Susan found the golden chess piece (a knight of course). By the time they had broken the wooden door and gone down into the old treasure hall full of suits of armor and mail and swords and helms .... oh it was heaven. Alright then - back on track.
My love of "sketching" went rather dormant in Jr. High School, but when I had a chance to pick my first elective in 9th grade, I of course took Art - thinking that all my hereto unheralded talents would spring forth fully formed like Athena from Zeus's open head! Alas, it was not so - I was horrible. And not just in sketching; I was equally as improficient in watercolors, clay, and natural material dioramas. The art teacher mercifully gave me a "C" and let me transfer to my next great conquest, music.
There was an especially tall (and very red-headed) Junior in the orchestra that year. She played percussion in the back - so cool - so .... errrrr, black dress-wearing. - Ok, back on track. Her name was Chrissy, I think. Anyway, I asked the director if I could join the orchestra. He asked me what I played and when I told him "nothing" but I wanted to be a percussionist, suggested that I take some private lessons. I did and by the time the semester ended, I was sitting next to Chrissy (who wasn't nearly as nice as I had hoped) counting my way through long symphonic pieces while waiting for my occasional triangle or tambourine part. You see Chrissy had all the experience and was therefore the only one in the school that was allowed to touch a drum during and orchestral piece. - I'm not bitter ... really, I'm not.
The next year, we moved to another part of Springfield and a different high school. The Orchestra at Kickapoo H.S. required all percussionists to play in marching band as well ... soooo there I was at Band Camp. They called themselves "The Line". Six snare drums, 4 bass drums, 2 quads, and 3 cymbals and they were most of my world for 3 years.
To call it hazing, would be an overstatement; but I almost wish that it would have been tougher. Finally, I was a part of an army - my bass drum before me like a mighty shield. Two sword-like mallets and swiveled between puffy and staccato tips were my weapons. I had a faceless uniform - and a hat with a plume .... oh, and a cape!
I followed orders, stood at attention for what seemed like days and walked around with sheet music taped everywhere. When you are a drummer in a marching band, you learn to "sing" the parts. This sounds a lot like Klingon Yodeling, but it's very effective. I can probably sing the bass drum part to 'Aztec Fire' and the Quad's part for 'West-Side" story even today. I'm also, pretty sure that I know every part (even the cymbals) of a Russian dance piece called "Tanz" that was our drum feature my senior year.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like to go to one of the big state schools and play for a college marching band (Evangel never had one). As a drummer, field percussion is about as exciting as it gets. Still I wouldn't trade my life now - even for a few more years in "The Line".
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