1/8/06

I have decided my little podunk band is going to perform Second Suite in F, by Holst. For those outside the music world, this is one of the first major works composed for the concert band setting. To perform the piece correctly will stretch my players to the maximum of their inherent ability and training, and far past the limits of their combined work ethic. Come children, now is the time to “redline” your brains. Give me your poor, your downtrodden, your children of alcoholics, suicidals, dorks, nerds, manic depressives, those who do not wish to be known as numbers or strips of tape on helmets, those who do not wish to be cussed at, your holders of Walmart clarinets, your special ed, your social outcasts, send them to me, and we shall make music.

We shall also have our collected asses given to us on a plate at Area tryouts. Of my six kids who qualified to audition, none made the All-State Band. Some worked hard, but just weren’t good enough, and two should have made it, but thought they could prepare themselves without my help and discovered otherwise. Oops! I have got to get out of this fucking town!