When I got home from work yesterday, I watched the end of the movie 'Drumline' on one of the movie networks.  As I was attending to the laptop as well, so I (thankfully) wasn't playing much attention to the plot of an obviously terrible flick.  I was watching for one reason and one reason only - the band competitions at the end of the film. 

Yes, I was once a band (and jazz band and choir and jazz choir) geek in high school.  I should also note that I played varsity sports throughout high school and was on student council, Prefects and anything else that could take me out of class.  

But I NEVER went to band camp.  (that redeems me, right, c2?) 

I won the music award in grade 8, but won the gym award in grade 10, even with knee surgery thrown in.  Although my wife insists it must have been due to the health units.  I think I won the soccer MVP in grade 12 because I was still young enough to play on the junior team, and I could bully my teammates.

When I went onto to post-secondary education, I attended RMC for a year and continued the blend of interests.  The physical training aspect of life in the military was uber-present, and on top of that I joined the rugby club as well.  Sports were mandatory, but joining the RMC Marching Band was not.  The band was a mix of the Brass and Reed band and the Pipes and Drums band.  Learning to honk away on my horn whilst stomping around was tricky at first, and you had a silly-looking pith helmet on, but it beat having to lug a rifle and swing around in formations. 

The Brass and Reed band was nothing new to me, but playing with Pipes and Drums was quite stirring.  That Christmas we were a part of the Kingston Santa Parade down Princess Street and one of the joys was to avert my eyes from the standard straight-ahead-stare to wink at a child, who was quite titillated with my break from protocol.  We also got to go to Toronto to play at halftime of the 1994 Vanier Cup......

On the Saturday morning we were to leave for the SkyDome from Kingston, I woke up late.  Missed the bus.  Now normally, missing something important usually entails guilt, a stern lecture and the disappointment of your peers.  These things were not of concern to me.  I was worried about what type of "corrective action" might be laid down by my training officer.  One corrective action I once was assigned (non-band related) was a white-glove inspection of my C6 rifle.  No one can pass a white-glove inspection of an assault weapon that naturally has carbon bleeding out of it due to the cleaner used.  But those types of comments are better suited for another, longer post.

I decided to be pro-active.  I caught the Via train with my uniform in hand and busted a move getting to Toronto.  My band commander nearly fell over when he saw me walk into the practice room at the 'Dome and didn't know what to say.  In fact, he managed to spit profanities at me and tell me what kind of slack-assed puke I was while laughing the whole time.  He and I are still friends.

There was corrective action, but it was something that ended up having to do with the band room.  Geeky corrective action, but having nothing to do with early mornings or tossing cookies.  I ended up working at the same company as that cadet commander and he could still remember what happened. He laughed and told the story when my resume was passed around the office, so my exploits were known long before I was hired.  A lesson learned to do everything you can, because you never know how it may affect you down the road.

Back to the movie reference -- there was a drums competition at the very end that reminded me of the drumlines (and usu. incl. pipes) that were put together at RMC.  Now, the black university musicians in the movie included all sorts of dance moves and formations.  The great thing about the RMC pipes and drums was that during a drumline performance they stood perfectly still, and were blue-blind paralytic drunk in doing so. 

My favourite memory from the RMC Band was of one fellow, who happened to also be in my squadron, who could ONLY play the pipes while drunk.  He was an average piper normally, but was a bagpipe virtuoso whilst inebriated.  I was assigned to march on the outside to his right in formation, which allowed me to hold my trumpet with the right hand, and occasionally push him back into line with my left.  Rum-pum-pum-pum [emphasis on the rum].