A high school career begins to wind down in November
It’s been the most incredibly eventful week. Extreme happiness
from the victory of the Giants, who finally won the World
Series
– it’s only been 56 years since the last time, after all.
There’s also a feeling of massive relief now that the elections
are over and the robo-calls and campaign literature will stop
clogging our senses. Also, Halloween is finally over, after a
celebration that seemed to take up an entire week for my son and
his friends, after all the school activities, costume construction,
parties, and yes, the actual day itself.
A high school career begins to wind down in November
It’s been the most incredibly eventful week. Extreme happiness from the victory of the Giants, who finally won the World Series – it’s only been 56 years since the last time, after all.
There’s also a feeling of massive relief now that the elections are over and the robo-calls and campaign literature will stop clogging our senses. Also, Halloween is finally over, after a celebration that seemed to take up an entire week for my son and his friends, after all the school activities, costume construction, parties, and yes, the actual day itself.
I will remember this week for all of the above, plus something more. This week is the week that signaled all too clearly that the end of my 17-year-old’s high school experience is drawing to a close. True, it doesn’t come until June, but the first signposts are showing themselves.
This week, I received the dreaded Senior Packet, full of exciting information about school rings, 2011 grad merchandise, and ordering those most essential items, the cap and gown.
Of course, Jostens wants their money now, not in June, for graduation paraphernalia, so I had to cough up $31.60 for a cap and tassel. (We already have a gown in reserve – the one I saved from my older son’s graduation.)
The end is near.
The other sign that it’s all wrapping up is that this Saturday, I will be attending what will possibly be my very last marching band review. I have been going to these things since 2003, when my older son was in band.
We’re traveling to Pismo Beach for the competition, which will feature about 30 other high school bands. Going to these competitions is slightly grueling.
Hunter and I, as well as all the other students and parents, have to be at the band room at 5:30 a.m. to get on the buses that will take us to Pismo. It’s a three-hour trip each way.
Once we get there, the kids will clamber into their uniforms, making sure all the buttons are buttoned and seams are straight. Kids with long hair need to hide it under their band hats, so there is always lots of fussing with bobby pins and hair bands to get it where it’s supposed to be.
Once they do all that, the band members typically have to wait in line until it’s time for the band to move, so there is a lot of periodic boredom and hurry-up-and-wait. The actual time in which they compete is very short – perhaps 15 minutes in all – as they march and play for the crowds and the judges.
Marching and playing at the same time is also a considerable skill that must be mentioned. Can you imagine playing an instrument and sounding decent while simultaneously trying to keep in step with 100 other people? It’s not easy.
And we’re talking about teenagers here.
But that being said, they do a great job. I always think they look good.
I know that I will probably get a bit misty-eyed this Saturday. True, I won’t ever have to get up at 4 a.m. again to go to a marching band revue, and I won’t miss that one bit. But I will miss seeing my son’s band, and all the other high school bands that work and sacrifice to put their best foot forward at these events.
It’s the end of a great big chapter in my life. Turning the page is never easy. But on the other hand, I don’t have much choice.
Sleeping in sounds like a lovely idea, after all these years. At least I have that.
