Of Friends and Chicken Wings......

Last night after Southwind performed at Cape Girardeau, MO, the staff was ready for some fun and chicken wings. Buffalo Wild Wings was open. What ensued was hilarious! 

I like wings. I usually eat them mild, but a certain nameless colleague of mine—we’ll call

him JJ—dared me to eat one of his “blazing” flavored wings. Never one to back down from a challenge, I devoured that tasty treat in one bite. Proud of myself, I looked at JJ and said “what then?!?” as if I were declaring some kind of victory. Shoot. Ain’t no fool gonna tell me I can’t eat the hottest wing flavor on the menu. I ain’t no chump. You step to me, you better come correct! 

And then the burning began. A thousand yellow jacket stings on my lips would have felt like the balm  of Gilead compared to what I was feeling. At one point, I hiccuped and could feel the chair I was sitting in slowly start to melt. While I wondered how my children would fare without me in their lives  , I used the last bit of battery I had on my phone to text my insurance agent to verify that my life policies had the right benificiaries. 

 Not having a gall bladder, I knew this was only the beginning. All I wanted was some milk and some

Maalox.  Maybe some gaviscon. Heck, hot asphalt would have been better! As my eyelids began to sweat, and with a look of panic on my face—so I’m told—I demanded water from the waitress. Certain that global warming is actually due to blazing wings from BWW, and shocked that JJ was laughing at me, I had no choice but to wonder if our friendship was all based on a lie. I mean, who would do this to another person?!! Oh that’s right....the same person who then said “hey Nate, try this!”  And the fun began all over again....

Ah yes, good times!! 

It’s probably not the best time for me to be blogging, but oh well....

I’m on a tour bus headed to Missouri. I’ve never been to Missouri. It’s one of the few states that drum corps never took me to when I was a member of Southwind. But here we go.

So....I’m on a bus. It’s 10:19 pm. The show at Samford University isn’t even over. We left early since there was no critique tonight. The corps administration decided we’d get a jump on our seven hour ride....

On this bus are former members of the Madison Scouts, Carolina Crown, Troopers, Cavaliers, Spirit of Atlanta, Teal Sound, Blue Knights, and of course, Southwind. We’re like “a band of gypsies” rolling down the highway. And I love it. We sleep on air mattresses. We eat food cooked in a makeshift kitchen that is actually a converted bus. We walk into stadiums and crowds go wild.

The kids....the kids come from huge band programs that make national headlines and they come from tiny programs in small towns you’ve never heard of. And every kind of program in between.  They work. They sweat. They cry. They ache. They pay A LOT of money to be part of this.
They sacrifice. And most of all,  they WORK THEIR BUTTS OFF.

The staff...we don’t coddle. We don’t tell them it’s good when it’s terrible. We sacrifice. We drive long distances to teach in this idiom because, somehow, a multi-hour drive is worth it when you can teach for 4 hours straight and NEVER have to say “stop talking.” Not once. We pour all we have into the kids because we did this activity, and we know the value of it. We know we learned more about marching music while doing drum and bugle corps than we ever did in college. It’s a thrill for us.

And the fans....we couldn’t do what we do without fans. Our visual caption head likes to say that the members’ utmost responsibility is to make people want to buy t-shirts from our souvenir booth. Truly,  it is. The fans are why we do this. A performance is just noise without an audience.  And I can’t thank the fans enough because without them, we wouldn’t be doing this.

So....I’m 45. And I’m riding 450 miles on a tour bus full of stinking, tired kids and staff.

And I love it.

The future is no place to place your better days.

Dave Matthews Band, "Cry Freedom"

Dateline: 1985.  1:15 am.  Twin Pines Mall.  Marty McFly, in a panic because the Libyans are trying to shoot him, climbs into the drivers seat of a stainless steel DeLorean.  The builder of this awesomeness, Dr. Emmitt Brown is dead on the ground.  He outruns the Libyans (of course he does--they're driving a van), accelerates to 88, the flux capacitor engages, and boom! Back to 1955!  

(Hill Valley's downtown was patterned after Andalusia's court square, according to Dell Trotter. )

You know the rest.  Marty McFly meets his parents, and hilarity ensues....

Man has been fascinated with the idea of time travel for decades.  I mean, Stargate! Hello!? I've seen all three of the BTTF films and I love them all.  I remember seeing a DeLorean once in a parking lot in Enterprise.  As I recall, Kevin Harp was with me.  Seeing that car in person, both there and on display at Universal Studios in Orlando, only furthered my own love of the film and of course, with the idea of time travel.  

If you could go back in time would you do it??

What would you tell your teenage self?

Good grief, what a question.  

Here are some things I would tell my teenage self, if I could. (in brainstorm order)

1.  Slow down going down Rabren Road when it's wet, you moron.  

2.  If you had tried just a little bit harder in that science class, you'd have made an A.

3.  Yo...you had a crush on her for years...she will go out with you if you just ask her.  

4.  Don't lie to your mom.  It takes a long time to get that trust back.

5.  Stop worrying so much about what other people think about you.  

6.  It's no one's fault that your dad died when you were 4.  Not even your own.

7.  Think twice before you do this or that.  People will still remember how you treated them years from now.

8.  Don't quit that job. It'll get better after you get trained properly.

9.  Don't take shortcuts.

10.  Treat your brother and sister better.  

11.  If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have to do it again?

12.  For the love of God, do not shoot that water balloon at the LBW tennis team from 200 yards away with a water balloon slingshot.  You could have seriously hurt someone.  

13.  Please put down the anger.

14.  Learn to be completely ok with who you are.  

15.  Be more of an includer.

16.  Speak up for those who don't have a say.

17.  Don't worry so much about trivial stuff.  Life is the great equalizer, as you will see at your 20th reunion.

18.  Everyone is struggling with something.  None of your friends have perfect lives, contrary to what you may think.

19.  It's easier to stay in shape than to get in shape. 

20.  The next 30 years are going to pass no matter how much or how little you do.  Don't look back in regret.
21. She will go out with you if you ask her.  (Did I say that already? hahaha)

In 2017, I had the privilege to help create Southwind's production "Toxic Mind."  2017 was a very interesting season to say the least, but that's another blog post.  The show was originally entitled "Strange Things" or something like that...I can't remember where my keys are half the time, much less the working title of a show.  I still remember when my great friend, Dell Trotter, called me after the first design meeting to tell me what we were playing.  "Creep," by Radiohead, has been a favorite of mine for a long time.  "Rite of Spring" set the world on its ear when it premiered in 1913.  Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" is timeless funkiness.  We worked the "Dies Irae" (day of wrath) from Verdi's Requiem in as a hook to tie it all together, and closed out with Muse's "Hysteria."

The concept of the show was that we are our own worst enemies.  The narrative in the soundscape says it all....

In my mind, I play the inner game--unaware that I am my own opponent.  I enter the arena willingly....but ALONE.  

I can still hear the rim shots from the drumline that occured right after that voice-over bouncing off the walls inside Lucas Oil.  The music faded into Creep, with Cameron Sansing playing solo flugelhorn, leading into an in-your-face moment from the whole drum corps.  

Chimes.  Dies Irae...ominous death.  Trumpets, layered with mellophones, then the whole hornline in a frenzy.  Boom! Back to Creep.  Listening to it as I type this makes my spine tingle.  Damn, I love music.  

The toxic mind is steeped in superstitions.  

At this point, one of the grooviest arrangements of "Superstition" I've heard begins.   The whole baritone sections switches to trombones and lays waste.  Now here comes four screaming trumpets....one of them was only 15.  Get it, Gabe Trotter.

Alone, I wrestle with doubt and fear.

The mood shifts, and "Toxic" by Brittney Spears begins.  Yes, Brittney Spears.  She's not that innocent, ya know!? I had serious doubts when Dell told me we were playing this AS A BALLAD. I was wrong.  Happily.  It was a moment. 

Toxic Mind

Loud, loud, and more loud.  Hey, that's what the crowd wants. 

Alone, alone, alone......

Fade in the electronica, 200 beats per minute.  Tuba feature to end all open class DCI tuba features.  They nailed it.  Jorge Alarcon was one heck of a tuba instructor.  "Hysteria" by Muse makes a great closer.   More Dies Irae from the synth.  Segue back into "Creep."  Fortississimo and real fast!  

Up yours, life!!! Suck it, Trebek. What. 

It's funny how things from the past creep up on you.  I never really thought about how I was the person in the story, but I really am.  So are you.  So is everyone.  I play the inner game.  Here's how it goes....

Am I good enough?

Can I do this?

Will I be successful?

Will he/she like me?

Will my students like me?

What if I fail?

Is it worth it?

Do I matter?

What's this all for anyway? 

I'm on the outside, looking in.

I enter the arena willingly.  This one always confounds me.  If I know something will consume me, why do I think about it?  Or act upon it?  What the actual heck??  But sadly, I do.  I go down the rabbit hole.  Why?  I see the warning signs.  I can plainly see the arena.  It's got ropes around it.  It has a big shining spot light right above it.  There's a ring announcer who's just said "let's get ready to rumble!"  A colossal beatdown is imminent.  And ole Brewer's like "ok, let's do it!  Idiot.  

The toxic mind is steeped in superstitions.  I think superstitions are stupid, except for the ones I believe in.  LOL.  I do not care what you think, eating collard greens on New Year's Day WILL NOT bring you good luck.  There, I said it.  But I have my own stupid superstitions, so I'm really just a giant hypocrite.  You can bet your iPhone I won't wash my trumpet the night before a show.  Somehow, I still avoid stepping on cracks in the concrete.  OCD isn't in alphabetical order, by the way.  

Alone, I wrestle with doubt.  Ahh, yes.  Satan's favorite tool.  Make someone feel alone, and he can do anything with you he wants.  Ever felt alone in a room full of folks?  No? Liar.  There is a huge difference between being alone and being lonely....often times, they blur into each other.  We often feel misunderstood.  Unwanted.  Kids grow up and they suddenly no longer want to be around us.  The Dixon Center on a Friday afternoon after unloading from a performance is THE LONELIEST PLACE ON THE PLANET.  (Except for maybe the home of a drum corps kid after summer tour ends.)  

In "My Own Worst Enemy," the band Lit said "it's no surprise to me, I am my worst enemy, 'cause every now and then I kick the living shit out of me."  Yep.  What if, just what if, we could JUST STOP.  JUST. STOP. I guess we are in an eternal mental war with ourselves.  I'm no psychologist, but I seem to recall something about such in PSY200....Ramona Franklin, you tried.  

While attempting to put a somewhat humorous twist on this stuff, it really is serious.  I think the title of Joyce Meyer's books says it all: The Battlefield of the Mind.  Battlefield.  Bombs. IEDs. Landmines.  Smoke.  Blood.  Destruction.  It's all in there....if we allow it.  The hard part is not allowing it.  

My great friend Dr. Dale Gunn once told me that everything is in the mind.  It's all mental.  Understanding this helped me cope with my divorce seven years ago.  What I wouldn't give to talk to Dr. Gunn again.  Sadly, he passed in 2016, but he left a mark!!  One day in his office, we were discussing the Indian proverb about the two wolves at war in each of us, one good and the other, evil. The winner is the one that we feed.  That WE feed. That I feed!!!!  When I was in fifth grade, my science teacher, Pam Rabren, taught this lesson to us in a different way:  garbage in, garbage out, referring to basic computer programming.  Same lesson.  Different presentation.  Eternal truth, packaged in a different box.  

So is it really true that I can be totally in control, mentally?  The Word says to be "transformed by the renewing of your mind."  That's pretty bold, if you ask me, but God said it, so it's right.  The key, though, is that I have to renew my mind DAILY.  Not just periodically.  The war doesn't take a break. It's a constant effort.  It requires diligence.  I know this....but I often forget it.  

I don't want to be my own worst enemy.  

You know...just a drumline warming up in front of an indoor football facility...no biggie....

I could talk about this photo for days.....

Let's begin with music.  My major instrument is the trumpet, but my secondary instrument is percussion, and in small towns like Andalusia, you often get called on to teach your second or even third instrument.  I have always loved drums.  My brother played drums in high school.  Many of my closest friends from Southwind, including Joe Fant and Jody Dunwoody, in the drumline.  Drums are just plain cool.

Next, let's talk about teaching.  I love to teach.  I just do.  The whole pedagogical process geeks me out.  Explaining. Demonstrating.  Refining.  Rehearsing.  All of it.  Seeing the kids become better at what they love is awesome.  Seeing the look on their face when they realize they finally got it right...well, that's the top of the mountain.

Or how about history?  The 2nd bass drummer's mom was in the band with me at AHS in the 80s.  In fact, we played the same instrument.  The 3rd bass drummer's mom was in the band with me as well. Bass 5's dad has been a friend of mine since high school as well.  Bass 6 and the center tenor player are brothers.

But most importantly, let's talk about family.  My son is the drum captain this year.  Grant has been into drums since he was 2.  He used to watch videos of Carter Beauford until he could quote them.  He has ABSOLUTELY. NO. IDEA. ON. EARTH. HOW. PROUD. I. AM. OF. HIM.  Every time I go to rehearsal, and stand in front of my own kid, I nearly have to pinch myself.  It is an experience unlike any other.  Sometimes, I just watch the members.  I watch laugh.  And crack jokes.  And I watch their frustrations.  I watch their satisfaction when they finally play a hard lick correctly.  You can't buy that kind of experience!  It's priceless.

This year, the drumline is blessed to have both Joshua Johnson and Steadman Glenn on the staff.  It's pretty cool having Steadman, particularly, because he is an alumni of the line.  I look forward to great things from the entire band this year.  We are 180 strong, and we're coming at you full force come the first game.

Purpose.....

The picture above is the back entrance to the Dixon Center at LBW Community College.  My office is on the left at the far end of the hallway.  For 15 years, I have started my workday by walking down this narrow, fluorescent-lit, cinder block hallway....and every time I walk in this building, I feel a strong sense of PURPOSE.  I feel like everything I'm about to do for the day is what I have been put on this earth to do.  Probably sounds fine and dandy, but in reality, it terrifies me!

Yep.  It terrifies me to stop and think that my life's purpose is to work, for some 25 years, and that I feel the most fulfilled when I'm at work!   

At best, I figure I have about 45 more years on Earth.  What am I doing with my life?  But maybe the better question is "what am I being with my life?"  The urban monk, Jay Shetty, said "rather than 'to do' lists, we need 'to be' lists."  I absolutely agree.  Please don't hear what I'm not saying...I'm not arguing for dropping all of life's responsibilities like Chris McCandliss and moving off to Alaska to die in an old bus.  What I'm saying is there is more to life than work!  

When I was at Troy State University, (yes, I will always call it Troy State) I had a professor named James Smith.  Actually, I had his brother Ray Smith, too.  They both were fantastic teachers.  I will never forget something James Smith told us one day in MUS 384--Band Techniques.  He said "do not live at the bandroom."  That was in about 1996, and here I sit reminiscing about it some 22 years later, and it resounds in my head like a giant church bell.  

Granted, we do find fulfillment in our work, and we should.  Most of us weren't born wealthy.  It's nice to eat well, and live indoors.  But work is WHAT WE DO, NOT WHO WE ARE.  Right, Johnny????  Right!  I love what I do.  I get to watch people accomplish dreams!  I get to watch musicians grow in their talent!  I get to see the shy, timid, scared-to-death singer come out of his/her shell on stage, and become a rock star!  I get to watch my students sign their autographs for the kids we play for....but it's a job.  At some point, God willing, I will retire from this job.  No more sound checks.  No more ground loop hums (OMG I can't wait). No more worrying about enrollments.  No more Canvas.  But...then what???  

The big three things that I think people find their purpose in are their careers, their kids, and their spouses.  All three are very honorable, beautiful things.  But retirement will come.  Kids will grow up.  Spouses will (potentially) leave or pass away.  What then?  What are you left with?  

If one doesn't find something with real, lasting value on which to devote his life, then he will, more often than not, find himself lost in a world that will throw every kind of "purpose" at him.  And he will grab them!  He will grab them because mankind knows it is here for SOMETHING!!!!  

The band Switchfoot said in a song "we were meant to live for so much more."  How right they are!  So today, maybe remember that work is what you do, but it's not who you are.  

...They are that that talks of going,
But never gets away;

And that talks no less for knowing,

As it grows wiser and older,

That now it means to stay....

"The Sound of Trees" by Robert Frost

Admittedly, I love Robert Frost's work.  His better known works, "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" and "The Road Not Taken" are hallmarks of American literature.  At times, he seems fully optimistic, and at other times, he sounds like an pessimistic atheist.  It's his ambiguity that leaves me wondering.  

In "The Sound of Trees," he wonders why we like watching trees so much.  Picture it...a tree moves all day long, yet goes absolutely nowhere.  It's like being on a treadmill.  Sure, you get your miles in, but you haven't gone anywhere.  Metaphorically, this is most of us, I'm afraid.  What if we talk about what we want to do, and plan what we want to do, and dream about what we want to do....but never do it???  

I recently went to Spain.  I'd never been "across the pond" and I was excited to go.  The purpose was to hike El Camino de Santiago.  El Camino (the Way) is a pilgrimage route in the Catholic church that spans northern Spain from St. Jean Pied de Port, France on the east end to Santiago on the west end, and though I'm not Catholic, my walk had a spiritual purpose.  One thing that kept coming up in my mind as I walked was this:

"Why did I wait until I was 45 to do this???"  

I guess there are many reasons, and none of them matter, because I can't go back and change things or undo things.  The point I'm trying to make is this: I plan things all the time and never follow through with them.  Why??  Is something keeping me from going?? Actually there is, and it is me! No one is stopping me, except for me.  

Sadly, looking back, I recall several examples of this concept.

 I started my doctorate when Grant was five.  The twins were yet to be. I grew tired of telling Grant "not now, I'm typing a paper," so I quit after one summer.  That was eleven years ago.  I intended to finish my PhD at some point, but that point hasn't arrived yet.  

A couple years after my divorce, I remembered how much I used to love playing the trumpet.  And so I decided that I wanted to see if I had what it took to audition for and be selected to play in a professional orchestra.  In 2013, I auditioned for the Pensacola Symphony.  It took 10 months for them to call me about playing.  It was awesome.  I got to play Tchaik's famous "1812 Overture" on that concert, and right before the downbeat, I wondered why I waited until I was 41 to do this???   I had talked about it for years...but I never did it.   History repeats itself.  

I suspect I'm not alone in this.  I hear it all the time from family,  friends,  and colleagues.  One of these day, I'm going to.....

In the 1800s, a movement known as Romanticism swept western civilization.  Romanticism doesn't mean what it sounds like.  It's not candle-lit dinners on Valentine's Day, though that's part of it.  At the root of Romanticism is the idea of possibility over reality.  Romanticism drives us.  In religion, we might call it "hope."  It's the Romantic in us that makes us want what we don't have. This is not entirely a bad thing, so long as we know how to control our desires.  But it is Romanticism that makes us make plans.  And it is the predecessor of Romanticism,  Classicism, that says "no, that won't work, just forget it."  We are constantly listening to one or the other of those urges, and probably both at the same time.  In a nutshell, we want what we don't have, and it's amazing to me that wanting something is often more fulfilling than having it.  But every now and then, we go get what we want, such as walking across northern Spain, or finally finishing a degree, or getting up the courage to do whatever it is that scares the #%%&#* out of us...and those moments are nothing short of life-changing.

So....what's on your list?  What do you want to achieve?  Why haven't you???