One Time, at Alumni Band

Last weekend I once again subjected myself to the two days of physical punishment known as "Alumni Band." I used to think that they only brought the gang back together once every two years because it just isn't practical for everyone to make the trip any more than that. Now I'm starting to think that two years is the perfect interval for everyone to remember how much fun it is, yet forget how sore they were when it's all said and done. I was sitting at my desk today thinking "Man! I am sore! It wasn't this bad last year" but a quick blog check of my Alumni Band post from two years ago seems to confirm that it was. I guess wearing the tenors must really work your back and shoulders, because my arm was shaking as I poured the milk on my cereal this morning.

Speaking of which, I once again ended up marching tenors (even though I'm a bass drummer at heart). The way Pam (Purdue's drum instructor) put it was "I need you on tenors," and how can I say no to that? What she means is that this year the alumni tenor line was me, Eric (who did pretty well this year but still doesn't know all the intricacies because he marched bass in college), and a guy named Chris who marched toms (not tenors, not quads- tri-toms) in the mid-1980s and didn't know any of the modern cadences or school song arrangements. So, even though everyone had the newest music, you need at least one guy who knows what's going on to hold it all together. And for once in my life, that guy was me.

As always, activities started with a music rehearsal on Friday night. It's amazing how many memories are triggered just by the smell of a room with 500 some bandos in it- you get that certain combination of brass, musty old music sheets, sweat, and God knows what that made the guy next to me say "Smells like band in here!" It puts you back in the mode. But whereas last year I felt like everything instantly came back to me, this year it was a little slower. I'm sure it's just 2 more years of rust, but I kept thinking "Wow, I used to be so much better than this!" During the rehearsal they gave out awards for things like "furthest traveled" (a tie between two members from Honolulu). When they asked for the oldest marcher, that was also a tie between two 80 year-olds- which prompted the room to start chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" I'll tell you what though- the one guy graduated in 1948, and I wouldn't have guessed him to be older than about 60. If I look that good and am still marching around in 2058, I'll be doing alright. No way I'll be on tenors though.

Saturday began as any good band day does- we met at the hall at 6:45 a.m. to make our way to the practice field for the marching rehearsal. This is when things got a little dicey: it was pouring rain all Friday, and Saturday morning the skies looked menacing. Since the weather channel called for rain all day, I opted not to lug my camera around. And moreso, the practice field was a giant mud pit. Granted, the alumni band isn't expected to replicate the quick turns and crisp movements of today's whipper-snappers, but I saw several people bite it just marching around. I personally stayed clean (even wearing the 75-pound drums) but I was fairly certain we were going to see a broken hip by the end of the day! Thankfully, there were no casualties.This is a good time to mention that there was an alum there who takes lots of pictures and posts them to PurdueBandFan.com (be warned- it's one of thoase annoying webpages that blasts music at you). As I write this, he doesn't have all the pictures up yet, but you can see me in this one (watching the conductor like a good drummer), Eric's all burry in this one, and this gives you a good feel for the weather that morning. Keep checking back for more! I'm glad I can steal action pics from him since I didn't get any.

The game was the same barrel of laughs I remember- the drum cheers, the school songs, the crazy hijinks. And hey, Purdue even won! I forgot what it was like to be right on the field in the endzone during a game. It's a mixed bag- when the action is in the close endzone you can hear the hits, and see exactly what the players are seeing. When they're on the other side, you have to turn around and watch the jumbotron to know what's going on. During the halftime show the current band formed the famous Block P, and the alumni band joined in to form the biggest Block P ever. I'm a big enough dork that I thought that was cool, but not big enough to know it was in commemoration of the 100-year anniversary of the Block P (which was, of course, the first marching band formation). I hope to get a good picture of that sometime, because we are all witnesses to history, people. Of course, as soon as the game was over the clouds parted and the sun was shining bright.

Sunday was an absolutely beautiful day, so Eric and I decided to walk around and check out some new campus additions, as well as some old favorites. This weekend was also the grand opening of the new Neil Armstrong Hall of Engineering. I mean, we never thought the ME building was all that great, but this place really puts it to shame. The man himself was even on hand for the ceremony, as were 15 other Purdue astronauts. Armstrong also attended the football game, and gave a pep talk on the jumbotron that he clearly should've practiced saying out loud first. But let's face it, he could've said "How about that war on terror!" and still received thunderous applause. He's Neil freaking Armstrong.

We also got to visit another giant of our time, the Boilermaker statue that was unveiled last year. I give it a thumbs up- it's a much more realistic representation than you usually see with Purdue Pete, and gives a little credence to our nickname. I wanted Eric to take some pictures of me sitting on the anvil, but he was pretty sure the police were already after us for climbing all over young Neil Armstrong. Plus, it was really high up there. Don't be fooled by the picture- remember: Eric's like eight feet tall.

Sunday was also our chance to embark on the mother of all Purdue schwag hunts, and believe me, I seized the day. I was almost paralyzed by all the choices, but I came away with a couple great hats, several excellent t-shirts, and a zip-up hoodie (which I understand all the kids are wearing these days). It was an excellent weekend, and I returned to work Monday dead-tired and in need of a vacation.

By the way, more pictures here.

Hallmark / Reason I'm a Nerd #32

I hope that we're in a "judgment-free" zone, and we can overlook what a giant band dork I am, and appreciate this little insight into the human mind. A few days ago I was talking to my good buddy Eric, and we were discussing making the pilgrimage back to Purdue for the Alumni Band. Last night I was sitting there drumming on my practice pad, trying to see if I remembered how to play the various school songs (yes- this is how I spend my evenings). Well, I had most of Hail Purdue, but I couldn't remember how the little tag on the end went. I tried for a while, then I finally gave up, thinking "Oh well, I'll figure it out when they mail me the music."

This morning I was back at it, tapping away, when my friend Shelley sent me a text message. My ringer for txts just happens to be the Hail Purdue tag (jeeze- maybe this should be reasons I'm a nerd #32-35), and as it was playing, my brain was like "Oh yeah!" and I played right along with it. I thought that was pretty neat, but then I tried to play it again without the music, and couldn't. I had to make my phone do the ringer again 2 or 3 times before I could play it solo! Let's hear it for context-specific memory.

Totally unrelated story:
I just got back from Hallmark, where I had to go buy some cards for the perfect storm of birthdays, father's days, and weddings that's brewing. Those of you that know me know that in my world, I am planning way ahead. Except the wedding- that was last weekend. Sue me.

What I want to know is, who's big idea were those greeting cards that blast the most repetitive part of a song at top volume when you open them? There had to be at least 20 kids in that store, and they were absolutely fascinated with these things. And they weren't all songs- some were sounds effects like laughter, or they said "Happy Birthday!" and the Father's day ones made (I kid you not) engine and power tool noises.

If you've heard how annoying these cards are one at a time, try picturing the constant cacophony of tinny music and obnoxious sound effects that filled the entire store for the duration of the time I was in there. I narrowly escaped with my sanity, but I swear I was almost knocking people down on my way out. I actually made a fairly daring move to get in line before one mom with her three kids, each of whom had selected one of these cards, and had progressed to what I like to call the "rap" stage of messing with them- where you open and close it repeatedly to make it go "Hap...hap...ha-ha-happy father's day!" I totally cut them off, but I think the mom understood. She was saying things like "C'mon kids, let's save some of the batteries for Daddy" and had a look on her face like "Good Lord, what have I done?"

As a side note, I didn't even stop to look at the 99 cent cards, because those always stink. It's like how you can buy the little bag of Twizzlers for cheap, but you understand that you're getting less. In this case, we all know that the cheap cards are less laugh and tear-producing. I figure this is probably a great backhanded compliment in the Hallmark writer's room: Someone pitches an idea, and the boss says "Hey, that's good! It'll make a great 99 cent card." Getting picked for a "value" card is probably like winning a Juno award.

I guess my point is if you receive a card from me in the next few days and it seems hastily chosen, know that there were extenuating circumstances!