Wednesday, April 20, 2005

A day that gets its own page in the scrapbook

There are not a lot of moments in my life that I recall distinctly. Even fewer are the profoundly musical moments that I recall distinctly:

- I remember hearing Ray Stevens' "The Shriner's Convention" for the first time when I was about 4.
- I remember waiting for one of my parents at Metrocenter in the back of my Dad's baby blue 1978 Buick Century when "After the Love Has Gone" came on Q-92 in 1979 or so.
- I remember hearing the results of my junior high band director's programming the "Theme from Pink Panther" into his then-advanced Roland keyboard. I heard sounds that I didn't recognize but loved, and would later come to know by name (I won't bore you, if that's still possible).
- I remember my solo in "Misty" in 9th grade Jazz Band.
- I remember the day my high school marching band took the field at the then-fledgling Brookwood competition after the drumline had been excused for theft.
- I remember "God Bless the Child" at the end of what I thought would be my last halftime at Georgia.
- I remember the end of the first pregame and halftime as a GA, and running to Dwight and saying "I could do this forever!"
- I remember the 20 minutes after the first time we ever did Battle Hymn at pregame with the video and everything. The staff cried the whole time.
- I remember the end of "Short Ride" with the WInd Symphony in January 2001.
- I remember That Moment in "America the Beautiful" at the first halftime after 9/11, and the way everything lined up and 87,000 people lost their britches (and I remind myself of that one frequently).

And from now on, I will remember tonight. I could describe it, but I wouldn't do it justice. I chose my favorite music. I had 75% of the program to myself. I had a band that was more graceful and capable than I could ever have imagined. I had an audience that was particularly gracious with their applause... several trusted friends in the audience... the ability to act without consequence... and what I can most accurately describe as affection, trust, love, enthusiasm, or some other abstract concept that I may never experience again.

I took tons of pictures in my head. I will hopefully have a CD tomorrow, and maybe a video tape. Or not. Doesn't matter.

I took copious notes, and finally, finally decided to appreciate exactly where I was exactly when I was. And if that is as good as it gets, then so be it. I don't think it is, but I'll take it.

I will, by God, take it.

5 comments:

Corley said...

Congrats. Wish I coulda been there. And yes, take it and run. Run right to the top.

Ludakit said...

Well said. If those damn liberals hadn't have stopped the "Star Trek: Beam Me Up Scotty" project from the Reagan years, I probably would have made it.

In all seriousness, it kills me I wasn't there. Miss ya bro.

Michael said...

Nice work. Let's hope this isn't the last time you are on the podium.

Funny, I don't remember the end of "Short Ride" in 2001.

That guy said...

I don't get the '87,000 people losing their britches' thing during the halftime show after 9/11. Care to explain? I was there and all...but I was entirely too weepy to be paying all that much attention.

Oh, and for what it's worth, I loved Ray Stevens as a child as well.

Chris said...

I can't believe you did not include your quartet performance at the North American Saxophone Alliance. sheesh...