Milestones...

First time I ever marched a parade
Trombone player--7th grade, with the Boys' Club of Pasadena Marching Youth Band. Somewhere in Huntington Beach, some time in the summer, and the march...March Grandioso and Hey Look Me Over.

First time I was ever a drum major
I think it was the summer before my 9th grade year. For the same Boys' Club Band. Marched in the parade in "downtown" Mammoth Lake. Grand Marshall that year...Erin Moran. Figure it out...

First time I ever performed with the Pasadena High School Marching Band
Football game in 1980. Can't remember. Remember "sketchy" memories of setting up in old Lot 4 at Pasadena City College outside of the old Horrell Field and being nervous as hell because I was about to do what I spent 10 years earlier watching my big brother do. Pretty cool.

First field show I ever performed in with the Pasadena High School Marching Band
I think it was the West Covina Field Tournament but I can't be for sure. I DO remember that we performed there, the Savanna Field Tournament, the Westminster Field Tournament, and the Palmdale Field Show and Band Review. March--Eagle Squadron. I would like to now fully admit, 26 years later, that I never did fully memorize that HARD ASS MARCH. I apologize to Mr. Wickham. I might as freakin' well. Everyone ELSE is reading my stupid blog.

First time I ever almost beat the holy living crap out of a drum major for being an ASS at the West Arcadia Band Review (true story)
Current "courtesy" and tradition is when a drum major passes another drum major they salute each other. Sort of geeky, but sort of cool. Some weird ass military whatever. West Arcadia Band Review--1981, Pasadena High School's drum major (and BAD ASS) Kevin Ramsey was leading us south on Baldwin Ave. We had just gone through the SECOND area where we were supposed to play, called the Tournament of Roses viewing area. That's where TofR folks watch all the bands and take notes. WHATEVER. So we're heading south. I'm a trombone. Front rank. I believe I was right guide--maybe 2nd in. Can't remember. I played loud. What's more to remember? As we're going south, I see a drum major walking by himself northbound on my side of the street. Perhaps he lost his dog. Or his band. I have no clue. He stops--snaps a salute at my drum major. That would be the aforementioned bad ass Kevin Ramsey. Kevin didn't SEE the salute. Saluting drum major felt that was a slight. So he did what any good, decent, ethical drum major in full uniform representing his school would do...and I can see it as PLAIN AS DAY IN MY MIND--I was looking RIGHT at this joker...he flipped off my drum major.

Ohhhhhh...take note, this would be the Pomona HS drum major. I was incensed. He's lucky I didn't drop out of the block and knock him out right there. There was just something inside of me that snapped. I remember getting back to the bus, checking with my DM if he had seen the other DM salute him (He did not), and then, that little obsessive compulsive "I hold a grudge FAR too long" demon inside of me awakened. Either the Pomona HS drum major was going to die...or there would be a very unlucky cat in my neighborhood later that day.

Busses took us to Arcadia HS for food and to get ready for the awards. Out on the big lawn of Arcadia's music building, where little did I know several years later I would actually be an instructor and drill designer and be PART of Arcadia, many different bands sat around and ate their lunches and were relaxing. I was still in uniform, but we wore "togas" to protect our uniform so we could eat. I don't remember the specifics of what happened, but out of the blue, I saw the offending drum major. And in my 10th grade 15 yr old mind, I had a mission. I had to protect my drum major, I had to defend Pasadena High School, and I most CERTAINLY had to teach this guy a lesson that he should NEVER EVER EVER flip off another drum major. EVER.

I walked up to the guy, and told him who I was. I then explained to him that he was #*#&$, and a #()$)@)@$*, with a nice big helping of warning him that a sure and swift death would come upon him and his posterity were he to choose to be that rude again. Funny...his body language was such that he was broadcasting that A) he didn't believe me, B) he didn't want to listen to me and C) should I remain near him, he would in fact kill ME. So therefore, without a word, he turned his back on me. And started to walk away.

Perhaps I wasn't clear...so I tapped him on his shoulder and said I wasn't done. He sighed, you know, that big HEAVE of the shoulders, and turned around.

His attitude changed suddenly. For unbeknownst to him, and to myself, a large contingent of some of our, uhhhh, rougher and darker members of the PHS Band had seemingly come out of nowhere, and were standing behind me.

Message delivered.

First time I competed as a drum major
Tom Peacock competition, some time in March at Katella High School in 1982 at those "L" Pattern Competitions. My first judge ever--Brian Fox. Brian used to be drum major at Pasadena High School back in the 60's. Small world. Since I was totally self taught and didn't know my ass from a hole in the ground, after my "roll off" and 4 whistles, I stepped off, did a nice little flourish with my mace to get it around so I could start beating time, and then, promptly SPIT my whistle out. I still have the tape of Brian Fox laughing at me. Got 2nd place. Laugh at that.

First time I competed as a drum major in a band review
Fall of 1982, Pasadena High School in the Chino Band Review. Was a total and absolutely emotional sack of crap that day. But you wouldn't be able to tell it. I was cool, calm, ultra collected, and we were ready. Got the band lined up at the starting line, waited for my cue from the starting judge, did my roll off routine, did my 4 whistles, did NOT spit it out this time (LOL!), and started to "beat time". In drum major world, you're supposed to cue your salute routine so that when you snap your salute it happens 6 steps before the "salute line" and you hold it for 6 steps AFTER the salute line. I don't get it. But those are the rules. Remember I said you couldn't see I was a nervous mess before? Well you could on my salute routine. Oh, the routine was fine. I even did a "half moon" in the routine--difficult maneuver--and snapped my salute...and realized, I was saluting some other line that was about 40 feet away from the TRUE salute line. So my salute timing was like 29 steps and 6 steps after. Drum major judge said I was great--just learn the damn rules. Gee thanks.

More "firsts" to come...