And Now For Something Completely Different

Believe it or not, I did something different Monday night.

After nights and nights of swimming, cooking, eating, doing laundry, playing clarinet, watching movies, and cleaning house, I took a little trip. I went to a DCI show.

DCI is Drum Corps International. Yeah, I know. Band geek stuff. And I know that drum corps is kind of killing what marching bands used to be, or at the very least bastardizing it, and I'll always take a marching band over a drum corps any day of the week. But hey, it's marching people in uniforms and shiny horns. And it's fun. You know I can't resist.

And it was a blast. Literally and figuratively. Boy, there sure is some by-God tootin' outta them kids' horns.

I went with my sister, my brother in law, Mr "I Just Got My Learner's Permit 3 Hours Earlier" Taytie, and Taytie's Friend, who is also a band drummer. (BTW, I just threw in the learner's permit part to warn People of Earth to stay off the roads. I was going to limit it to drivers in the state of Virginia, but you know, just to be safe.)

Anyway, we all piled into the vehicle and set off down the road the two or so hours to the show, and got there in perfect time - which means, early enough to not miss anything, but not so early that we had to sit around and wait. There were seven bands there competing. They were all "world class," meaning, all bands you'd see in the big DCI world championship competition. And two of probably the top three bands in the DCI world were there, The Cadets and The Cavaliers.

The bands play in reverse order of their standing in the ongoing DCI ratings. So the first bands, save for one group (The Capitol Regiment) that just knocked me out, were good, although  nothing that made you swoon. But the Cadets and Cavaliers were something else altogether.

The Cadets, who hail from Bergenfield, NJ, did a show entitled - get this - Living With The Past (The Music of Jethro Tull). Now, when we read this in the program, we laughed heartily. Several times. Especially seeing as how drum corps have no flutes. I mean, how are you going to do Jethro Tull with no flutes? But one would be amazed at how well some Jethro Tull tunes adapt as band arrangements. Really. One would. They also had a nice balance of seriousness and fun, some of the fun coming from the drumline, but most of it coming through from the flag guard, who wore seventies ruffly shirts and skin tight blue jeans and looked like they'd just come from seeing Led Zepplin. They also had an honest-to-God baton twirler, which I haven't seen in I can't tell you when. And he was not only good, but could do cartwheels and Russian leaps in those skin tight blue jeans as well.

The Cavaliers, who hail from Rosemont, IL, and who, although upset last year in the worlds, are generally regarded as The Best, had a little bit of a departure with their show. They're known for innovative music, which they normally have composed just for them, but this year they just went wild with Anglophilia. Their show was a medley of songs from James Bond movies (yes, Mike, you'd have just peed your pants with excitement). And they were amazing.

See, first of all, you have to realize that the Cavaliers don't march so much as they sprint. They actually run, bent-kneed, around the field for 10 or 15 or whatever minutes playing their instruments. I frankly don't see how they do it, but it sure is a sight to see, and I admire them greatly for it. The music itself was very entertaining and well-played, and they threw in all kinds of added Bondian touches. Whenever a trumpet came forward to play a solo, instead of the obligatory stepping out and waiting for his turn, theirs would leap out, wielding the trumpet like a gun until time to play. You could also see, at various points, little touches like the drummers throwing in a shooting motion with their drumming (while stopping to blow on the smoking gun), and players miming drinking a martini and throwing back the glass. Cute stuff.

When it came time to announce the winners, it was pretty obvious the Cavaliers would win out. But for me, the choice wasn't so simple. The Cadets were just so good, and well, they had the balls to play Jethro Tull in a band show! But the Cavaliers were so polished, and on the marching (running) alone, I had to give them the edge. We were scoring at home, or in the bleachers, in our program, and put the Cavaliers as winners by 2 points. As it turned out, we were generous. The Cavaliers did indeed win, but by a scant .5 of a point. And I was glad. I would have been happy with a tie, actually.

In the car, on the way to the show, I discovered something. Apparently, it's not just Taytie. And when I say that, I think I've mentioned before that the boy's a drummin' fool. On his leg, his head, my head, the car seat, whatever, constantly beating out cadences with his hands and fingers, pencils and sticks. Well, it must be a drummer thing, because Taytie's Friend was exactly the same way. Lost in thought, forever drumming out rhythms and cadences.

On the way back, though, I discovered something else. The "secret language" of drummers. All fired up by the drummers and percussion they'd seen earlier, T and T's Friend spent the entire trip home talking about things they could incorporate into the GHS band. The conversation went something like this:

T: At that one part we could go "paradiddle diddle, diggadigga diggadig diggadig diggadugga diggadugga."
T's F: Oh, that's good, then how about "digga digga digga digga dit dit dit dit. Sixteenth, thirty-seconds, thirty-seconds, bomp...bomp...bomp...digga digga digg! Two and five, two and five, bomp bomp."
T: Oh, man! I can't wait for band camp!
T's F: Oh, man!

Two hours of that is, um, really interesting.

By the way, I'm leaving tomorrow evening for another little excursion of a decidedly different nature. Mr M and I are going to Clarinetfest, the annual convention/gathering of the International Clarinet Association. Yes, I know. A Nerd's Paradise. But I'm oddly looking forward to it. I'll let you know Sunday how it all turned out.