"THE BAND"

July 3, 2009
“THE BAND”
Band was a big part of my growing up experience. I started at in junior high and somehow ended up playing the French horn. Back then girls didn’t play that instrument (today it is predominately played by females). So I like to think of myself a pioneer in that instrumental area (lol). Band was pretty uneventful in junior high. Little did I know what I was in for as a member of the Plant High School Band!
We had to attend Band Camp and that is where I met, John Turner. When school started we had Marching band Practice daily. We were also a very unique type of Band. While everyone else was playing John Phillips Sousa Marches we were playing, Shaft, the Rolling Stones “Satisfaction” and many more funky and current tunes. When we left the field at the end of our half time show we played either “O Happy Day” or “When the Saints come Marching In”. We were awesome, thanks to the fierce and tireless direction of Mr. T! He was scary and could just look at you and invoke total silence. During one of the first weeks of band practice my sophomore year, I was walking in from band practice. I did not realize that most of the band members were already in the Band room. I’m innocently walking along when, Boom…someone grabs one of my arms and someone else grabs the other arm and then simultaneously my breasts are grabbed (by Frank B. and Richard V.) and they go “Honk, Honk”. Well I am mortified and stunned beyond belief! I run to my friend Kelly and report this distressing event. She is equally upset and insists I must tell Mr. Turner. I look around the Band room and what do I see and hear? News of this incident is spreading fast and someone I had a crush on is laughing about it! Well now I’m even more upset and pretty pissed off! I find out that Frank and Richard were trying out for a “Service” club (Interact I think –what a way to “interact” mind you) and this was their initiation challenge. Go up to a girl with big boobies and honk them and I was their very special girl of choice! The next day Kelly and I go to Steak and Shake before practice and have our comfort food of French fries dipped in Brownie Fudge Sundae. Over our comfort food I plan out what I am going to say to Mr. T. Before practice I go into his office and tell him I want to talk to him. I am so embarrassed and all I manage to tell him is who the culprits are and that they “did something to the upper part of my body”. He is not very happy about this and tells me he will take care of it. We have a big half time show coming up that everyone is very excited about. He tells my two sexual harassers that they will not be marching in this upcoming game. That was the ultimate punishment – we all loved performing in those shows and not being able to march was a crushing blow. I really don’t think they thought I would tell on them. This news does not go over well with the two perpetrators and hits the band grapevine quickly! That night after the game most of us went to Shakey’s pizza. I am there hanging out with some friends when all of a sudden I am surrounded by a group of guys who start calling me “prude” and “goody-goody”. When I get home that night my mother takes one look at me and says, “You don’t look good”. I tell her I don’t feel well and turns out I have a raging fever! I think the whole event and aftermath literally made me sick!
A few years ago there was a PHS Band Reunion/Mr. Turner retirement party and I got up and gave a short speech about Mr. T and the band. During my speech I profusely thanked Mr. Turner for giving me a safe haven in more ways than one. During my sentimental speech I told the story about getting honked. It got a good laugh and turns out Frank B. was there! Vengeance was finally mine and Frank even apologized but wasn’t too happy I called him out in front of the whole group.
Mr. Turner was an absolute genius with his choreography of our halftime shows. Many people came to the football games to watch them and we usually got standing ovations. Yes we were “Band Nerds” but we were some of the coolest ones around. Mr. T. would stand out on the field with a megaphone yelling at us if we missed a step. Nowadays Bands just do one halftime show but we did a different show every week! I have no idea how he got a bunch of klutzes and uncoordinated misfits to perform these intricate extravaganzas but he did. He was like one of those drill sergeants in the Military. It did not matter what the weather was like, we practiced in the extreme heat, while it was raining and pretty late into the evening. All the while yelling at various band members. I can still hear the sweet refrain of “Gallagly….get back in line”. At this time the “bump” was very popular. Mr. T. tells us he is going to incorporate that into our latest show. Then he tells us who our bump partner is going to be. Ugh….I don’t really want to bump with any of my fellow French Hornyans! I remember thinking to myself, “oh my God…..let it at least be Tony” (the least unsavory of the bunch). Well God didn’t listen and I got paired to bump with Diego. His butt was probably at least twice my size of mind and he on at least one occasion would bump me so hard that I fell over. Along with the bumping Mr. T had us all sing out “Party” and “I can’t get no Satisfaction”! Of course this was a big hit and the crowds went wild.
We would go to various Marching Band contests in the area. Mr. T took these very seriously and I know worked very hard to make sure our shows were perfect. He would videotape our shows and we would watch them the next day to see what areas needed work. I remember going to a particular contest and expectations were high. We were all convinced we were going to come home with Straight Superiors. We got out there played and marched our hearts out and once again the crowd loved us. Well unfortunately the tight ass judges did not. We did not fit the norm, although our band was predominately white, Mr. Turner was black and graduated from one of the best Marching Band Colleges around – FAMU (if you have never seen one of their shows I highly recommend it). We did not meet their narrow minded ideals of what they wanted to see or hear. We did not play the frigging Star Spangled banner and stand there like a bunch of Plant City hicks! After receiving our unfair and crappy scores we boarded the buses. We were all so upset and many were crying. It was one of the first instances of blatant prejudice that many of had ever experienced.
I look back now and think how tough it must have been for Mr. T. Sometimes he did have a temper and could scare the shit of you with his silent stare….. However the show must go on and it did! Our Rebel Band leader kept the shows coming year after year.
As I mentioned before he would tape the shows (had one of the first VCR’s back then) not only to critique us but to also help him with his choreography. My Senior year I had the esteemed honor of being president of the Band Honor Society (the only “honor” anything I ever achieved in high school). We helped raise additional money for the band. One of the things we did was clean up the stadium after JV football games. One night we are all out there picking up the trash in the stadium, when suddenly I look around and see that a large number of the guys are not out there cleaning up with us. I look around and realize it is mostly girls (except for Ken Jones) out there with me cleaning up the crap!! I am pretty mad because where did the boys go? I go into the band room to investigate, thinking “they better not be drinking in the band room” and No they weren’t. One of the members of our Honor Society (who shall remain anonymous but initials are CS) is showing a porno on Mr. T’s VHS machine!!! Needless to say that private viewing broke up pretty quickly. The prude did not tell on this porno watching group or its ring leader. Instead it was great blackmail to get them to clean up all the future JV games, while the girls (and Ken Jones) went to Steak and Shake!
Speaking of nudity….as you know this was the era of the Streak. One year the band is playing on the football field during a graduation ceremony. The stadium is packed with families when all of a sudden a streaker runs across the football field. Holy Cow! The streaker is a trumpet player and track star, Dean H.
Cannabis usage was quite rampant in High School. The prude did not partake, although there was quite a lot of peer pressure to do so. Back then I think I had a crush on almost every drummer in the band (not all at the same time mind you – a different one every week or so). Almost all of them (at least the ones I liked) were cannabis partakers. Only goes to show you that the goody-goody would like the drummer “bad boys”! One particular week I had a very big crush on a cute drummer named Carl. He had long, blonde hair and I think this crush lasted a little longer than most. One night after a game Carl asks if I need a ride home. This would be our first official date ( if you call a ride home a date but it was to me at the time). Carl does not have a car so we catch a ride with two other long haired, hippie freak, pot smoking band members. I’m just so happy to be riding in the back seat with Carl that who cares if they stop the car and are smoking a joint. Then we ride a little further and the car is pulled over again and more wacky tobacky is partook (by them not me). Still I do not care because now Carl is holding my hand. Hurray the cute guy I have been staring at for months is finally holding my hand. Everyone is laughing and talking and having a good time. Now that I think of it the windows in the car were shut and I was probably getting high off the second hand smoke!! It starts to get late and our driver starts up the car again but also decides to light up another doobie. We are riding along and all of a sudden we hear the siren and see the lights flashing behind us. We are being pulled over by the popo! I remember thinking, “Oh my God we’re going to jail and my parents are going to kill me”! Our driver and supplier of the weed pulls over. Instead of rolling the window down and having all the smoke and the undeniable smell come wafting out, he calmly gets out of the car and shuts the door. The three of us in the car are freaking out, especially me. I am making a lot of deals with God at this point. God if you get us out of this I promise to never be mean to my sister again. God if you get us out of this I promise never to get in the car with a bunch of guys smoking pot ever again. God if you get us out of this I promise to never go out with Carl again. On and on my promises go and finally our driver gets back in the car. Someway, somehow God was listening or else it was just sheer good luck but our driver KNEW the cop. He had dated the driver’s sister in the past. The police officer said he stopped us because there was a report of some kids in the area driving by throwing rocks. He let us go!!! The prude was so overjoyed that she let Carl walk her to her door and kiss her. It was one of the best and scariest nights of her life.