Our band uniforms were heavy-duty green canvas-like lumberjack pants. Or were they Park Ranger trousers? I think we had to go to the hardware store to buy them, sneaking over to the nuts and screws aisle to try them on. Or maybe it was Sears.
By the way, lumberjack pants? So not sexy.
Also? Yellow band T-Shirts with the words “March or Die” on the back. Suspenders were also mandatory and they encouraged “flair”. I wore a rainbow set like Mork from Ork and covered them with outrageous buttons and pins. We had to hold onto our yellow hard hats during certain moves or else they’d fly off.
Yes, in 1988, I was a band geek for Humboldt State University. My college volleyball career eligibility was used up and I had to find something to do to keep me off the streets. A fellow Sacramento Youth Band member, who was now in the university band, convinced me to sign on, so I dug up my flute and piccolo from their blue velvet-lined coffins and joined the Marching Lumberjacks (motto: Kiss Our Axe).
I hated it.
Which is too bad, really, because they look like they are having a good time. Totally non-conformist. Right up my alley, really.
This one time? At band camp?
Band camp was a weekend in August at a real campground, somewhere deep in the forests of Humboldt County. I was nervous about the rumors “death pizza”: pizza with ‘shrooms, and hash brownies, afraid they’d force feed us for some hazing ritual and I’d wind up stoned and alone with the gnomes. I’d be high, high up in a redwood tree, hallucinating with the rest of the recruits.
If you messed up a parade drill you had to tilt your head back for a mystery concoction that was poured from a “boda bag”, a tilted teardrop-shaped linen canteen thing. The Axe Major approached you with a bag in each hand and ask you if you wanted alcoholic or nonalcoholic. Then they squirted something nasty down your gullet. You wanted to be first, because the reactions from mistake makers before you only made you more afraid the awful sauce.
You know how when you expect Coca Cola and you accidenatally drink root beer and it totally freaks your taste buds out? So you’re about to drink something nasty and it’s not going to be anything you expect which makes it even harder to figure out what it is because fear and mystery liquid make for a strange cocktail indeed. In my case, it was Shasta Diet Chocolate soda.
Ick! But also: Whew!
Two of us were allowed to wear green lumberjack shorts at performances because we “had the legs for it”. The other “Gam Girl” was a fellow piccolo player with big beautiful blond curly hair, who I befriended out of desperation. We even went to the mall one day and shared an ear piercing, each getting one hole in one ear (I’ve been lopsided ever since, having added a third hole to my right ear). But after college, I never saw her again and now I have this extra stupid hole in my ear. And now, it feels like a forgotten one night stand after a drinking binge. Or like waking up the morning after with Sharpie evidence all over your face. I mean, this ear piercing was supposed to MEAN something, like blood sisters. Every time I see that hole, I think of good old whats-her-name.
Anyway, the Marching Lumberjacks’ big night was when UC Davis’ band came up for the football game. Our scatter band would deliver a huge halftime show of scrambling around to spell: H. S. U. That was it. That was the show. Three letters. We weren’t big enough or disciplined enough to pull anything serious off, so we went for humor. Kind of like this blog, come to think of it.
After the game, while the football fans filed out of the bleachers, we launched into the much-anticipated Battle of the Bands, which consisted of us on our side of the stadium wheezing out our songs and alternating with UC Davis belting out their virtuosos from their side of the stadium as we exhausted our musical libraries. The winner of The Battle was determined by who ran out of songs first.
We lost.
Every year, from what I’ve heard. I was only a member for one season.
My experience was depressing. I think I felt superior to “those yahoos” who were just in it for the sillyness and the pot. We weren’t nicknamed Marijuana State University for nothing, you know.
But I entered that whole adventure depressed. It was merely a band-aid covering a gaping wound. I missed being part of a volleyball team and felt left out while my sporty friends continued to be eligible and play. I thought this “band thing” would cheer me up, fill that void, but it didn’t, really. Which is too bad. They were funny. But I wasn’t in the mood for it. Not even when, at the end of the season, I was awarded with a handmade plaque. This wooden award was adorned with a cotton ball wrapped in pantyhose with a small string dividing it in half and glued to the base, so that it looked like, you know… a butt. A tiny little butt. It was the Cutest Butt award or something like that.
In a different year, that award would have moved me to tears. Someone took the time to make me a thoughtful award and I dismissed it. That’s right, I poo-poo-ed a Butt award.
I had always felt like I never fit in and was bored at the party and left early, missing my award, so somebody gave it to me later. Oh sure, I feel bad about it now, and I guess they must have tried to make me a part of their group, but I didn’t feel it. In fact, looking back on it, I was a total jackass.
How did I get out of my funk? I got a job as a high school volleyball coach at Eureka High School the following year. I was a “credible” volleyball person again.
But I still have the “Cutest Butt” award and the suspenders with “flair” in a box somewhere. It’s a bittersweet memory, but a memory nonetheless.
UPDATE: Found it!
And I stand corrected. It is not a Cute Butt award. It is a Cutest Tush award. I hope you will find it in your butt – oops, I mean – heart to forgive me.
* * *
Hey, did I show you my “Congrats for getting canned!” gift that my husband got for me?
I know!
That is awesome. I was in the Aggie Band-uh! through my college days. While it was fun, I wasn’t exactly the most popular person because of something stupid I said on my first day. The battles were my favorite times, especially when HSU, Stanford, and some other bands made the trip to Davis for Picnic Day and we’d play until the other bands left or the cops told us to shut up. And then the barn parties afterwards. . .
The best thing about the Band-uh! is that’s where I met my wife. We’ve been married 10 years now.
Great story! Cutest butt isn’t so bad. It’s better than biggest butt!
Fabulous story. And,I haven’t thought about ol’ Mork from Ork in ages. I had the same suspenders. Yahoo!
I am a lumberjack and I’m okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.
I love to dress in lacey panties.
And that’s alright with me.
One more time!!!
Awesome post!
Thanks for the comment left on my blog. It is my pleasure to add you to my blogger roll, as you sense of humor is great! I really enjoy reading your blog. Keep on rolling with the punches.
Hope you had an awesome Thanksgiving.
Hiya! Great Blog! I love the purse your DH bought you! It took me a while to believe that picture is for real with the Lumberjack Marching Band..I’m still wondering about that lol!
Mao have something for you over at my place mao.
Hey, may dad taught there for a year like, um 40 years ago. True story.
I was in the drums!
Seriously band people are awesome.
I think you are my new hero woman! I love your blog!
You can make army green sexy. There just must be a way. Anyway, as you were lamenting your loss of volleyball, I was just starting to play against your replacements. I played middle blocker for UCD for 3 years.
You mean all this time I’ve been sucking up to a band geek!
Try earning my vote now.
Kidding I cast my vote!!
I wish I had better observations to make here: this is why I do a technical blog instead of a humorous one.
As the “fellow Sacramento Youth Band Member” who introduced her to the ‘Jacks, I do recall she had her moments of fun. But I can relate to how one’s mental attitude will strongly influence the overall outlook of any activity. I’ve had periods in my life that should have been an absolute blast, but instead was just something to get through. The stresses of major life changes along with making the grade is a potent combination.
Like any group, each person is going to get something different out of their experience. I had terms that were fantastic, and others that just plain sucked rocks. I was there for the zaniness and to blow off steam, and never touched anything illegal.
As for battles with the UC Davis Cal Aggie Marching Band-uh: that’s a long story which deserves a blog of its own. Yahoogle if you’re interested.
And finally for those wondering about whether our intrepid Goat Herder really deserved “The Cutest Butt Award”…I’m now married and must claim the Fifth.
I have to say…I’ve never really gotten the band geek thing. lol
You tell great stories!
We might need a picture of that plaque…but we won’t laugh. Not a bit.
Hmmm – cute butt award. Congrats on that. Can’t say as I’ve ever gotten one of those. ‘Course I went to Catholic school and we weren’t allowed to have cute butt awards. Or butts. Or to think about butts.
I was cracking up all through the post! You have the funny! Which… since this is a humor blog… you already know. This is my first visit, pardon me, I’m a little giddy.
I wish we’d had a cutest butt award in high school. It would have been a lot more interesting than the boring ones we had!
Yay! I just voted for you-you’re in second place!
I love your writing!
Its lucky you like goats then isnt it!
great story…although I think as your loyal followers we deserve a picture of the cute butt award…and one of your great gams lol…c’mon no holding out on us!
Come over to my place 7 pick up your gift…
Your “Congrats for getting canned!” gift is excellent! Yay for the husband 🙂
Theater geek here. I never had the stick-to-it-ness to actually learn an instrument: I can play Edelweiss and Ode to Joy on a half dozen different ones, each picked for some perceived coolness factor, and that’s about it, hehe.
I LOOOOVE that bag!!! I played the flute for about 2 years. No band for me although I was forced into playing at First Friday Masses.
And one time? At band camp? I stuck a flute in my p….. Oh. Probably shouldn’t say that on here. I got carried away with all the movie quotes. LOL
Great post. I was a band and choir geek but fortunately never had the experience of band camp. Thanks for the laugh! 🙂
Hmmm…the only instruments I played on college were of the skin variety…*cue rim shot*
Anyways….I bet the suspenders were cute!
Awwww…of course I’m really relating to the didn’t fit in with the crowd feeling. My cousin went to grad school at Humboldt State–Bob Cimberg? I’m sure you knew him. Surely, you did. Didn’t you?
Ah, band camp. Sweet memories.
I also joined the group that was notorious for “silliness and the pot.” Unfortunately the only band they were in performed in Bobby Clifton’s garage and the only “battle of the bands” we had, involved grapefruits and a balloon launcher. Needless to say, I never got an award, unless you count the community service hours I was awarded by the city of Tempe for the grapefruit incident.
Cutest butt, huh?
Wow. All I got was “Best SLUT” at my Thespian Society induction. ROFL And it didn’t even come with any sort of physical representation of just exactly what I was awarded for. =P
(BTW, I *earned* that award, damnit, not for whoring myself out or anything, ya know… but because I played Sabina in “The Skin of Our Teeth” as my very first show EVAH. LOL)
I am tone deaf – so not a band geek. Sounds like it was a good thing that I can’t play an instrument.
Volleyball though that’s another story, I just wished I was a foot taller.
OK first of all, HOW cute is that goaty wallet?!? Awesome.
And – I can’t believe you have not already coughed up that you are a former band geek (even if just for one season)! We are separated at birth and you are SO holding out on me!!
Now I must make you drink from MY bouda bag…mwah-ha-ha…
I’m going to need to see a photo of the butt award, FYI.
:^) Anna
Well they sure do look like they are having one heck of a time! I wasn’t a band geek, but I was a Flag Girl in high school(like someone else that posted up above me)! I was into my freshman year, did it out of obligation my sophomore year. After that I was too much of the shiznit for it (yeah right)! Maybe for your penance (for being a jackass-you said it not me 😉 ) you should resurrect your flaired up suspenders, hard hat, and march across the lawn. It may correct any bad Karma that you are dealing with! Oh, and video it.
You should never fear gnomes. They are easily controlled…
http://authoringauctioneer.com/lunch-gnomes-and-the-bloody-weather/
Never knew band camp could be so, so, scary. eeeekk. I voted for you!
I love it! No one got me a Nanny Goats tchotke when I last got canned, dammit.
After seeing the first picture of the band it connected and hubby and I were laughing our “not cute” butts off. We just saw the movie Humboldt County and so even before the band camp story it was made all that more funny.
No worries..I was a band geek, but not a real band geek, I was more like a band geek wanna be. I was a, yes, a flag girl.
I didn’t think anyone would remember the Monty Python Lumberjack song after all this time!
I played the flute in junior high!! I knew you were one of the cool kids in school. Unfortunately, my “flute-ing” career only lasted about a year…then I discovered boys….my poor mother!!!
That was fantastic! Oh, and I also received the cutest butt award in high school. I attribute that to my many years as a gymnast. (Not my years as an ass. That would come later…..)