Thursday, April 21, 2005

Unreal

What an amazing day.

I spent the early (for me) part of the day hanging out with an expert on Logic. Steve brought him in and anyone who wanted to got to pick his brain about the application (which FYI is very powerful, but terribly complex and causing a lot of us some headaches).

Trey called us both to the band room at a little past 2:00. I walked down, and as I entered the band room, I found about 150 people standing there - obviously waiting. It was a little under half of the marching band, and as I walked in, they all started clapping... like more than a little bit. This has always been awkward for me because I don't know what to do or say - just like on Tuesday. But I knew it meant "Good job" and "thanks." And I was flattered, stunned, and very humbled.

When they were finished, I noticed Professor Crowell standing in front of an arc of guys. They were Redcoat members of the Men's Glee Club who began singing the Georgia Medley, one of my alltime favorite things to listen to (it is performed at most Glee Club Concerts, and my first time witnessing this is one of my earliest Georgia memories). I have certainly never had it sang to me, and it is one of the neatest things I have experienced (Damn, that's like four of those memories in one week).

So I said a couple of words, and then encouraged everyone to eat the cake that was prepared on the tables to my left. "No," they said, "you have to look at the cakes first." I obliged and went to look. One had the shadow arch, and the other had my picture from the front page of The Red and Black from 1995... you know the one, where I'm smashing pumpkins and all. Somehow, they got that in icing. I'm a pretty simple person, so I don't know how they did it, but they did.

Having seen this, I then encouraged everyone to eat. Yet again, they wouldn't let me as they had something else to show me. This was amazing.

Ikumi, a mellophone player and wonderful woman in the band, had drawn an incredible picture of her band uniform laying on her dorm room chair after a ball game. On a gigantic white matte around the picture, the band had written individual messages to me in red and black pen. They were perfect, and just exactly the things you would hope to have someone say to you when you've kinda invested a whole lot in something without a whole lot of guarantee for compensation.

The picture brings me to tears when I think about it (*chokes*). It's almost like it was the picture of being finished with something, as in a game day, but that you had that reminder of what you did that day still sitting on your furniture... and perhaps it reminds you that you're never really finished. The messages are beautiful up close, and when viewed far away seem to form a quilt in red and black.

At this point, I told them to eat since I couldn't speak any more.

For the next two hours, I got to sit and simply spend time with many of the people I love with no pressure, nowhere to be, no impending performance or obligation that caused our being together... we just sat, took pictures, and spent time enjoying each other's company.

That's the best thing I've gotten in a long time. I have never felt this blessed before. Ever.

2 comments:

That guy said...

Whoa whoa whoa...why didn't I get the memo about this little shin dig? That kinda bums me out. I would've really liked to have been there. It certainly would've beaten what I was actually doing at the time...watching Fahrenheit 9/11 in my INTL class.

At any rate, I'm sorry I missed it. Is there some listserv I'm not on or something?

Brett said...

You're not the first person I have heard mention that. I think it was announced at G-Day, but of course that leaves out the returning people. Not to be too pretentious, but I'm thinking about having a time when I just sit at K-bob and let anyone who wants to come by and just say hi do so. What do you think?