To All You Homeless Waifs

Well, the school year is starting again. That should bring some blog posts about. Now that everybody who ever read this blog has given up and died.
Today in band we marched.
I like marching.
But not with this band.
There were like four people who marched.
1. The Drum Major (how did she get to be drum major, anyway? Why wasn't I there when that happened?)
2. The Teacher (although he got out of step once)
3. Me (obviously)
4. Tristen (the only other responsible person in the band)
So you see, my musical life is pretty pathetic.
I wish I played the violin.
Unfortunately, there are no violin teachers around.
Unfortunately, that is non sequitur.
Apparently, the band board (I still don't know who's on the band board; I missed the elections) set a goal of getting a '1' at the state fair this year.
I knew they were good for something.
A futile goal, but you have to know what victory is before you achieve it.
To add to the other misfortunes, the teacher was not a music major; he was a vocal major.
At our school, the choir teacher and the band are the same thing.
So, it's not like I blame him. It's just that...maybe he should let me teach the band how to march.
And how to care.
And how to play an instrument.
And important stuff like that that people in band need to know.
O college band, wherefore art though...