Saturday, July 21, 2001

the bastard

The band program at my High School was really huge - that includes marching band, which, believe it or not, was not uncool. (There were about 900 people in the school, and about 280 people in Marching Band my senior year.) So anyway, the band director used to always say a whole speech about each Senior before he gave them their Marching Band plaque at the Music Parents awards dinner every spring. I was first chair clarinet in the concert band for 4 years, I marched for 3 years, I was a vocalist in the marching band my senior year (an interesting but sadly misguided idea, having vocalists on a stage in front of the field), and I PUT UP WITH HIS CRAP. Like, being yelled at, over the loudspeaker system, in front of all 280 people (and the whole neighborhood) because I was singing with too much vibrato. Having to audition for the opening song and being rejected because I sing with my eyes closed. Being assigned the ballad, and being screamed at, again over the loudspeaker, "Make us cry! You're an actress!!!" Things like that. Not to mention the political bullshit that made me turn around and refuse to even try out for drum major. (Like losing the Assistant position because of a rumor. A RUMOR.)

So the Music Parents awards dinner comes around, and I think to myself, well, I've put up with a lot, but at least now I'll be appreciated. He'll say something about how valuable I've been to the band, what a good musician I am (1st chair for 4 years, remember), how I played clarinet in Full Orchestra, how I was an all-around cool chick.

Well, apparently, there were too many seniors for him to do a whole speech about everyone. Well, that's okay, I thought, I'm one of the special ones, I'll get at least a couple of sentences.

This is what he said:

"She was a vocalist this year."

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