For those of you who don't know, Apolo Ohno is an Olympic-level speed skater, and during races he settles in near the back until late in the race, when he makes his move.
This year (which may have been his last Olympics), he did NOT get a gold medal. Of course, when asked if the Canadian officials may have had anything to do with his unfair disqualification, he didn't deny it.
But that is not the point.
Our band teacher has a similar approach.
He hands out the concert music sometime in October. None of us really enjoy concert music that much. That's why colleges have concert bands and pep bands and symphony orchestras and jazz bands and marching bands all separated. Anyway, we don't play eighty percent of the music he hands out, which is probably a good thing (we have NO Beethoven in our vault! None whatsoever). So, we play the music every day, except for the one random day he doesn't feel like directing so we just play pep band by ourselves while he sits in his office and cuts out paper cornucopias and snowflakes. Cool.
But the point is, we mostly JUST play the music. He doesn't give much advice, doesn't say "change this," and yells at the drummers once in a while, but doesn't try to change what they do.
About two weeks before the concert, everything changes.
Suddenly, he's all about articulation and dynamics and who has the wood block? (Let's not forget, they BROKE the wood block.)
Also, he asked me if he ran me over.
Certainly not, my band teacher.
And who's got the crash cymbals?
And the bells?
And the duck?
Just kidding. We ate the duck for Saint Patrick's Day.
Well it's kind of a roundabout way of saying it, but here's what it comes down to: If the band teacher wants good music with short stacatos and wood blocks and all of that fun stuff, talk to musicians.
The high schoolers will be eating a duck.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
#35 NO decorations.
We have fake dead leaves all over our band room. Why do we have fake dead leaves all over our band room? I do not know why we have fake dead leaves in our band room. I guess we're just festive that way.
I hate fall.
There is nothing good about fall.
Taking the cold, bitter season into the warm band room (VERY warm band room) was not a good idea.
Let's not do this.
I hate fall.
There is nothing good about fall.
Taking the cold, bitter season into the warm band room (VERY warm band room) was not a good idea.
Let's not do this.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
#34 Graduation.
There is only one thing that separates playing for graduation from playing for homecoming: we're sitting down, and we're indoors. (And you thought musicians could count.) Seriously, this is something we don't enjoy any more than the graduates or the audience.
Wait, isn't that everybody?
And why do we say "Happy Graduation" anyway?
Graduation (more formally called "Commencement," if you're named Chad and go to Vanderbilt University) is a ceremony. Now, saying "Happy Birthday," that makes sense. I mean, after all, on you're birthday you're officially considered a year older, and that depresses sensible people who get depressed over stuff like that, so we thought we'd just say "Happy Birthday" and hope that for some reason that makes you happy. Yeah, we don't know you well enough and/or were too cheap to get you a card or a present, and we don't really care if you're happy on any other day of the year.
Except graduation. We hope you enjoy that.
For real? Why is graduation the only ceremony that we do this? You'll never hear anybody say "Happy Ordination," but then again, most people preach a sermon for their ordination, and of course it's not their first sermon or how did they get ordained in the first place? This is different. You only have one graduation.
Actually, some people have two.
Or three.
But that's less than the number of sermons you preach to get ordained.
What about...uh...are graduations and ordinations the only two ceremonies out there that have actual names?
Let's talk some more about graduations...
A graduation is when you go sit in a really really really hot gym and wait twenty minutes before you start to hear boring music that you hear at EVERY graduation. Then a bunch of people you don't know start to walk in and can't seem to walk in time to the music. They probably don't even hear it. After they take twenty minutes walking to the front of the gym (why can't they enter from that side, anyway?) they all sit down and you hear a boring speech from the superintendent and/or principal. Then, you hear boring speeches by two of the students that you don't know, but they're smart and usually keep it short. How do we know they're smart?
What, did you think they'd get stupid people to do the speeches?
Then, we watch for fifteen minutes to three hours, depending on the number of students, while they walk across the stage getting diplomas, and in some cases there isn't even a diploma in that weird leather-looking case thing, but I can't remember why, because this is the time of year about as far away from a graduation in the past or future as you can get.
After all that, they leave, which is the best part, because that's when you get to hear music you've never heard before. Unless you went to the graduation last year. But you've forgotten it. Everyone has a different recession song, none of which have anything to do with the recession. That would be too depressing. Our song sounds something like Star Wars/Creatures of the Night (Mannheim Steamroller version)/Chopin funeral march/some Toreador Song thrown in the middle. (What? You've never the Toreador Song? You need to go to more operas.)
This is all very depressing. That's why we say "Happy Graduation," because we know you won't like it.
Homeschool graduations are only slightly different.
You didn't even know homeschoolers had graduations, did you?
Neither did I, until I went to one.
There are two basic reasons homeschoolers have graduations. First, to show that we can compete with anything the public school throws out. Second, so that the parents can say, "Come see our children! This is the one time of year they actually come out! They really do exist!"
Has this been a long post to you? I have to keep you reading until a graduation. Unless you're going to a December graduation. Good luck connecting this with being a band teacher.
Wait, isn't that everybody?
And why do we say "Happy Graduation" anyway?
Graduation (more formally called "Commencement," if you're named Chad and go to Vanderbilt University) is a ceremony. Now, saying "Happy Birthday," that makes sense. I mean, after all, on you're birthday you're officially considered a year older, and that depresses sensible people who get depressed over stuff like that, so we thought we'd just say "Happy Birthday" and hope that for some reason that makes you happy. Yeah, we don't know you well enough and/or were too cheap to get you a card or a present, and we don't really care if you're happy on any other day of the year.
Except graduation. We hope you enjoy that.
For real? Why is graduation the only ceremony that we do this? You'll never hear anybody say "Happy Ordination," but then again, most people preach a sermon for their ordination, and of course it's not their first sermon or how did they get ordained in the first place? This is different. You only have one graduation.
Actually, some people have two.
Or three.
But that's less than the number of sermons you preach to get ordained.
What about...uh...are graduations and ordinations the only two ceremonies out there that have actual names?
Let's talk some more about graduations...
A graduation is when you go sit in a really really really hot gym and wait twenty minutes before you start to hear boring music that you hear at EVERY graduation. Then a bunch of people you don't know start to walk in and can't seem to walk in time to the music. They probably don't even hear it. After they take twenty minutes walking to the front of the gym (why can't they enter from that side, anyway?) they all sit down and you hear a boring speech from the superintendent and/or principal. Then, you hear boring speeches by two of the students that you don't know, but they're smart and usually keep it short. How do we know they're smart?
What, did you think they'd get stupid people to do the speeches?
Then, we watch for fifteen minutes to three hours, depending on the number of students, while they walk across the stage getting diplomas, and in some cases there isn't even a diploma in that weird leather-looking case thing, but I can't remember why, because this is the time of year about as far away from a graduation in the past or future as you can get.
After all that, they leave, which is the best part, because that's when you get to hear music you've never heard before. Unless you went to the graduation last year. But you've forgotten it. Everyone has a different recession song, none of which have anything to do with the recession. That would be too depressing. Our song sounds something like Star Wars/Creatures of the Night (Mannheim Steamroller version)/Chopin funeral march/some Toreador Song thrown in the middle. (What? You've never the Toreador Song? You need to go to more operas.)
This is all very depressing. That's why we say "Happy Graduation," because we know you won't like it.
Homeschool graduations are only slightly different.
You didn't even know homeschoolers had graduations, did you?
Neither did I, until I went to one.
There are two basic reasons homeschoolers have graduations. First, to show that we can compete with anything the public school throws out. Second, so that the parents can say, "Come see our children! This is the one time of year they actually come out! They really do exist!"
Has this been a long post to you? I have to keep you reading until a graduation. Unless you're going to a December graduation. Good luck connecting this with being a band teacher.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
#33 The woodwinds that wait until everybody else starts playing to put their instruments together.
This is a strange phenomenon.
There are a few woodwinds (usually thirds and occassionally seconds) that don't seem to realize they're in band class until the teacher tells them to play the scale. And we're all like, seriously? You've had at least three minutes to set up, and you haven't opened your case yet? Did you forget the combination?
No, they haven't. They just sit there. Probably thinking about doughnut holes. (Band members' minds work that way. They don't think about doughnuts, just the holes.) Then, when the teacher tells them to play the concert b flat scale, they're suddenly like, "Oh my, what is this odd rectangular solid resting on my lap? It has clasps and a handle. Maybe it's a briefcase full of money (or doughnut holes)." Then, they open the case, and with a gasp of surprise, they're like, "Oh my goodness! It's a clarinet! I played the clarinet in high school, you know." (Who are they talking to?)
Do they really expect to get away with this? There's a little bit of logic behind it, though. They think everyone will look at them and nod with affirmation and say, "Well they are woodwinds. Those instruments take a long time to put together. Not like the 1.7 seconds it takes to assemble a trumpet."
I have personally put together a clarinet, and it doesn't take that long. Now if you play the one octocontrabass clarinet in existence, I would have a little more sympathy for you. That thing goes lower than a piano.
However, you conventional b-flat clarinets get no mercy.
If only I were the band teacher.
There are a few woodwinds (usually thirds and occassionally seconds) that don't seem to realize they're in band class until the teacher tells them to play the scale. And we're all like, seriously? You've had at least three minutes to set up, and you haven't opened your case yet? Did you forget the combination?
No, they haven't. They just sit there. Probably thinking about doughnut holes. (Band members' minds work that way. They don't think about doughnuts, just the holes.) Then, when the teacher tells them to play the concert b flat scale, they're suddenly like, "Oh my, what is this odd rectangular solid resting on my lap? It has clasps and a handle. Maybe it's a briefcase full of money (or doughnut holes)." Then, they open the case, and with a gasp of surprise, they're like, "Oh my goodness! It's a clarinet! I played the clarinet in high school, you know." (Who are they talking to?)
Do they really expect to get away with this? There's a little bit of logic behind it, though. They think everyone will look at them and nod with affirmation and say, "Well they are woodwinds. Those instruments take a long time to put together. Not like the 1.7 seconds it takes to assemble a trumpet."
I have personally put together a clarinet, and it doesn't take that long. Now if you play the one octocontrabass clarinet in existence, I would have a little more sympathy for you. That thing goes lower than a piano.
However, you conventional b-flat clarinets get no mercy.
If only I were the band teacher.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
#32 I would use this.
Yes, this was referenced in the earlier post about good posture. However, it deserves its own post.
Ahem.
How do you remember whether to pull out or push in when you're out of tune?
If I stab you with a knife, what are you going to say?
I know, a little strong for a family-oriented blog, but work with me.
And the answer is not "OW!! YOU'RE KILLING ME!! CALL 911!!"
No.
You will very calmly and quietly say, "It's sharp. Pull it out."
So, if you're sharp, pull it out.
If you're flat...sorry. We don't have a device for that.
Ahem.
How do you remember whether to pull out or push in when you're out of tune?
If I stab you with a knife, what are you going to say?
I know, a little strong for a family-oriented blog, but work with me.
And the answer is not "OW!! YOU'RE KILLING ME!! CALL 911!!"
No.
You will very calmly and quietly say, "It's sharp. Pull it out."
So, if you're sharp, pull it out.
If you're flat...sorry. We don't have a device for that.
#31 I would wear a powdered wig.
Who doesn't love powdered wigs? This won't be just your regular Mozart powdered wig, though, it will be a Bach wig. If you're ever trying to explain the difference between Baroque and Classical music to a layman, just point to the wigs of those two guys.
Bach's is long a full and luscious and curly.
Mozart's is short and...blah.
But very organized.
A very good way to remember.
Bach's is long a full and luscious and curly.
Mozart's is short and...blah.
But very organized.
A very good way to remember.
Monday, November 8, 2010
#30 I would hope that the students didn't have the kinds of problems most musicians have.
We musicians are a strange bunch. Those of us who don't die young (Mozart and Chopin, both in their 30's) or have stomach problems (Paganini) usually have bad psychological disorders, like Beethoven. Beethoven was probably bipolar, and being deaf didn't help. And, he had an annoying nephew.
Today I discovered that I probably have self-defeating personality disorder and/or I'm passive-aggressive. That explained a lot to me about myself. Like why I want to yell at people when they compliment me, for example. Or why I push so hard for getting what I want and then feeling guilty when I get it. I used to blame my stubbornness on being half German, but I no longer use that excuse. I can use this one. Mental disorders are way better than inherited ones.
I have a strange mind.
Anyway, as disturbing as the above information might be, imagine dealing with a whole classroom of those dangerous musicians. About the classical musician I know that didn't have these problems was J.S. Bach, although secretly he wanted a wig like J.C. Bach, who really wished he had sideburns like Beethoven, who wanted a nice red jacket like Mozart, who would have been really glad he wasn't as fat as Rossini, had he lived to see him.
On second thought, though, Bach's wife did die. All these other guys were too dysfunctional to get a wife. Especially Beethoven. Let's all not be like Beethoven. That is definitely going to written on my markerboard.
Today I discovered that I probably have self-defeating personality disorder and/or I'm passive-aggressive. That explained a lot to me about myself. Like why I want to yell at people when they compliment me, for example. Or why I push so hard for getting what I want and then feeling guilty when I get it. I used to blame my stubbornness on being half German, but I no longer use that excuse. I can use this one. Mental disorders are way better than inherited ones.
I have a strange mind.
Anyway, as disturbing as the above information might be, imagine dealing with a whole classroom of those dangerous musicians. About the classical musician I know that didn't have these problems was J.S. Bach, although secretly he wanted a wig like J.C. Bach, who really wished he had sideburns like Beethoven, who wanted a nice red jacket like Mozart, who would have been really glad he wasn't as fat as Rossini, had he lived to see him.
On second thought, though, Bach's wife did die. All these other guys were too dysfunctional to get a wife. Especially Beethoven. Let's all not be like Beethoven. That is definitely going to written on my markerboard.
Friday, November 5, 2010
#29 Accidentally sending people to the office.
Brice's new saying is, "It was an accident."
If by that alone you can't tell that he's a drummer, you're not a true band member.
Let me tell you, the drummers in our band get away with everything. Having the strong sense of justice that moves me to mug people who just mugged people, I can't stand that. However, also having the strong sense of not wanting to get thrown out of the school for taking matters into my own hands, I sit there, helpless.
On a side note, don't you hate those people who just laugh when teachers are yelling at people? Way to undermine the leader's authority. That'll blow up in your face later in life.
Am I venting in public?
What a shame.
But I digress.
If I were a band teacher, things would be different. If those wisenheimer (yes, that's a real word) kids told me it was an accident, they would sent to the office, or as I like to call it, the Doom Room. Actually, I just made that up.
Then, just before they left the band room, I would say, "It was an accident." Then I would turn to the class and say, "Don't you just hate it when you accidentally send someone to the office?" And they would all laugh.
And then, I would say, "None of you are safe."
A fascinating phenomenon, accidents.
If by that alone you can't tell that he's a drummer, you're not a true band member.
Let me tell you, the drummers in our band get away with everything. Having the strong sense of justice that moves me to mug people who just mugged people, I can't stand that. However, also having the strong sense of not wanting to get thrown out of the school for taking matters into my own hands, I sit there, helpless.
On a side note, don't you hate those people who just laugh when teachers are yelling at people? Way to undermine the leader's authority. That'll blow up in your face later in life.
Am I venting in public?
What a shame.
But I digress.
If I were a band teacher, things would be different. If those wisenheimer (yes, that's a real word) kids told me it was an accident, they would sent to the office, or as I like to call it, the Doom Room. Actually, I just made that up.
Then, just before they left the band room, I would say, "It was an accident." Then I would turn to the class and say, "Don't you just hate it when you accidentally send someone to the office?" And they would all laugh.
And then, I would say, "None of you are safe."
A fascinating phenomenon, accidents.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
#28 Instead of writing "Mr. Neumann" on the board, I'll write, "You don't say N. Eumann."
For those of you who don't know Victor Borge, this doesn't make sense at all. The line comes from a skit of his which you can watch here. You can watch the whole thing if you want to, but it's eight minutes long and you need to get back to reading this blog. The only part you need to see to understand the line is from about 5:40 to 6:10. Enjoy.
#27 Venting.
I was talking to a friend last night online. For the sake of privacy, all of the one name in this post will be changed.
Let's call her "Arwen."
I'm fairly sure that I don't know anyone named Arwen.
So I was talking to Arwen, and she was having a really bad day, and so she was venting on me. There's nothing wrong with venting on me, but I really don't know how to handle it. Especially when she says stuff like:
Do I?
I can't imagine that.
Well I'll just go back to being happy "Arwen" who goes around frolicking with sheep. BAAA!
Now, if you know this person, you know that that's a perfectly normal thing for her to say. I didn't think that she was losing her mind or anything. I was just like...am I supposed to laugh? Was that intended to be funny? Do I catch a hint of bitter sarcasm in that statement?
I am professionally worried.
I'm still not sure what she meant.
Now, if my friend out there ever reads this, I'm not trying to make light of her situation at all. She's facing some really hard decisions and she was tired and had bad day. I think it's great that she considers me a good enough friend to be open and sincere in the stuff she wanted to talk about and that she trusts me not to gossip about her to all two of her friends that I know, which are both named "one of my sisters."
However, I just thought she should know.
NEVER DO THIS IN PUBLIC.
On also yesterday (dude, two venting stories in one post, this is out of control), there was a football game in town. Since it was playoffs, the band doesn't play there. Now, being the perceptive and intelligent person that I am (my dad told me), I knew that. However, other people didn't, so Mr. Band Teacher got asked several times in class whether we were playing or not. Then, one of the drummers asked.
He got yelled at.
"No! And if you would listen to me the first time, you wouldn't have to ask!"
So Luke (looks like there was more than one name) says, "If I could hear you the first time, I wouldn't have to ask!"
Mr. Band Teacher turned back to his stand.
And Luke said to himself, "Goodness.*"
"DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME, MR. SPRICK?!?!?!?!" and he bangs the piano.
No, he didn't, apparently.
Now, I don't know what was going on inside the teacher's head at that time. Maybe he was just having a Monday. Maybe he was just yelling at Luke because he was a drummer.
I don't know.
What's that you say? That's not technically venting?
Probably not, but if I as your band teacher ever start venting in class, I want you to do at least one of these things to me:
1. Say, "You're venting again."
Simple? Yes. Maybe that's why it probably won't work. Try number two:
2. Start playing the concert B flat scale.
That always seems to have a calming effect on our band teacher. I don't know why. I'd probably feel better if you gave me a pizza, but that's a little unreasonable for a student. If all else fails, try number three:
3. Suppress me.
For those of you who haven't read Alice in Wonderland, that means stuff me in a sack and sit on me. Now, if I don't get too caught up in the social injustices of being a teacher in today's system of education, I'll probably go to sleep. That will be the best for both of us.
So, there you have it. I hope I never get caught venting in public. I always regret it.
Maybe if I just kept a sheep around. That might solve all my problems.
Let's call her "Arwen."
I'm fairly sure that I don't know anyone named Arwen.
So I was talking to Arwen, and she was having a really bad day, and so she was venting on me. There's nothing wrong with venting on me, but I really don't know how to handle it. Especially when she says stuff like:
Do I?
I can't imagine that.
Well I'll just go back to being happy "Arwen" who goes around frolicking with sheep. BAAA!
Now, if you know this person, you know that that's a perfectly normal thing for her to say. I didn't think that she was losing her mind or anything. I was just like...am I supposed to laugh? Was that intended to be funny? Do I catch a hint of bitter sarcasm in that statement?
I am professionally worried.
I'm still not sure what she meant.
Now, if my friend out there ever reads this, I'm not trying to make light of her situation at all. She's facing some really hard decisions and she was tired and had bad day. I think it's great that she considers me a good enough friend to be open and sincere in the stuff she wanted to talk about and that she trusts me not to gossip about her to all two of her friends that I know, which are both named "one of my sisters."
However, I just thought she should know.
NEVER DO THIS IN PUBLIC.
On also yesterday (dude, two venting stories in one post, this is out of control), there was a football game in town. Since it was playoffs, the band doesn't play there. Now, being the perceptive and intelligent person that I am (my dad told me), I knew that. However, other people didn't, so Mr. Band Teacher got asked several times in class whether we were playing or not. Then, one of the drummers asked.
He got yelled at.
"No! And if you would listen to me the first time, you wouldn't have to ask!"
So Luke (looks like there was more than one name) says, "If I could hear you the first time, I wouldn't have to ask!"
Mr. Band Teacher turned back to his stand.
And Luke said to himself, "Goodness.*"
"DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME, MR. SPRICK?!?!?!?!" and he bangs the piano.
No, he didn't, apparently.
Now, I don't know what was going on inside the teacher's head at that time. Maybe he was just having a Monday. Maybe he was just yelling at Luke because he was a drummer.
I don't know.
What's that you say? That's not technically venting?
Probably not, but if I as your band teacher ever start venting in class, I want you to do at least one of these things to me:
1. Say, "You're venting again."
Simple? Yes. Maybe that's why it probably won't work. Try number two:
2. Start playing the concert B flat scale.
That always seems to have a calming effect on our band teacher. I don't know why. I'd probably feel better if you gave me a pizza, but that's a little unreasonable for a student. If all else fails, try number three:
3. Suppress me.
For those of you who haven't read Alice in Wonderland, that means stuff me in a sack and sit on me. Now, if I don't get too caught up in the social injustices of being a teacher in today's system of education, I'll probably go to sleep. That will be the best for both of us.
So, there you have it. I hope I never get caught venting in public. I always regret it.
Maybe if I just kept a sheep around. That might solve all my problems.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
#26 There would be a giant painting of John Phillip Sousa.
John Phillip Sousa was one of the awesomest people to ever be John Phillip Sousa. (Were there more than one? Why don't you look that up.)
He wrote "Stars and Stripes Forever."
He invented the sousaphone.
He should have called it the "johnaphone." Actually, maybe it's a good thing he didn't. There brings a picture of someone playing an instrument resembling a toilet to my mind.
In my band room, there will be a giant painting of this guy.
After all, we have a lot in common.
We're both named John.
Both of our middle names are Jehoshaphat. (What? You think it was Phillip? Crazy talk.)
I'll probably be the one to do the painting.
But what's that you say?
I can't paint?
I've only ever heard one song by Sousa?
I don't even know what Sousa looked like?
I almost automatically reject music if it was written between 1827 and 2000?
Crazy talk.
He wrote "Stars and Stripes Forever."
He invented the sousaphone.
He should have called it the "johnaphone." Actually, maybe it's a good thing he didn't. There brings a picture of someone playing an instrument resembling a toilet to my mind.
In my band room, there will be a giant painting of this guy.
After all, we have a lot in common.
We're both named John.
Both of our middle names are Jehoshaphat. (What? You think it was Phillip? Crazy talk.)
I'll probably be the one to do the painting.
But what's that you say?
I can't paint?
I've only ever heard one song by Sousa?
I don't even know what Sousa looked like?
I almost automatically reject music if it was written between 1827 and 2000?
Crazy talk.
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