WordSisters

Category: Marching band

  • Easing into Fall with the Minnesota State Fair

    Buzzing cicadas signal summer’s last gasp. Cooler days and school are ahead and soon summer will officially be over. The sun is still warm but a hint of melancholy drifts in with fall’s cool breezes. Yet another summer is gone and I haven’t done everything I meant to do. But the exuberant excess of the Minnesota State Fair next week is the remedy.

    I didn’t grow up going to state fairs. Ohio’s is in Columbus, three hours south of Toledo, my hometown. Years ago, when a friend urged my husband and I to go to the Minnesota State Fair, I was skeptical. To do what—see cows? Play midway games you never win? 

    She persuaded us to try it, even when our sons were toddlers. The plan was to go at 8 a.m. when it’s cooler and less crowded. Leave after lunch. Our friend initiated us into state fair lore: Do the park and ride buses which are crowded, entertaining, and efficient. Get mini donuts for breakfast. Cinnamon sugar over greasy fried dough—what’s not to like? Try at least one crazy new food for lunch (the state fair has hundreds—it’s a yearly competition). Birria crunch bombs? A pretzel shaped like a mustache? Peri-peri hot chicken bowl?

    We had more fun than expected. The Princess Kay of the Milky Way butterhead sculpture. Fancy chickens with colorful plumage. A glimpse of rural life with 4H-ers parading the cows, sheep, or horses they raised. The Creative Crafts building with spectacular quilts, fanciful crocheted animals, and clothing ranging from professionally tailored to endearing first efforts. Jeweled jellies. Wilting cookies and breads. The Fine Arts building showcasing paintings, photos, and sculptures—a rare equal opportunity for unknown as well as established artists. Impressive crop art and giant pumpkins in the Ag building.

    Later we accompanied our grade school sons, who embraced junk food and water rides, but quickly learned midway games were a ripoff. For several years they collected Academic All-Star certificates at a casual ceremony. I’m not sure how rigorous the standards were, but we were happy to celebrate academic effort.

    High school marching bands are invited to perform at the state fair, and for several years our youngest participated. His bandmates poured out of several buses, wearing band T-shirts (August is way too hot for wool uniforms and tall white hats with black plumes). Free admission was the main perk for the teenagers. They marched and played a few songs and then were free to shuck their instruments and go have fun. Band moms like me handed out water in the mid-afternoon heat then adjourned for a beer at the Leinenkugel Lodge. 

    Two State Fair Grandstand performances are especially memorable. Bonnie Raitt playing blues hits from her “The Nick of Time” album in 1990. The weather was threatening but she had us rocking and cheering until the news interrupted—blues legend Stevie Ray Vaughan had died in a helicopter crash. We were all shocked and sad, but she did her best to perform, offering the concert as a tribute. In 2022, I returned for of Diana Ross. The nostalgia trip was fun, but when we were leaving, a shooting in the parking lot had us has all scrambling to get out of there. 

    Although our sons are grown, my husband and I still go. At 8 a.m., the air is cool and I’m tempted to bring a light jacket but know better. Once there, our shared cup of Sweet Martha’s chocolate chip cookies makes it easier to say goodbye to summer.

  • Loud, Proud and Golden

    Why would anybody practice from 8:00 in the morning to 10:00 at night for 11 days in sweltering August heat before school starts (practice music, field drills, practice music, field drills, practice music, field drills, eat, sleep, and do it again the next day)?

    Why would you lug around a heavy instrument—sometimes running, sometimes marching, a lot of times dancing—two hours a day, five days a week, and eight hours on game days?

    Half-time
    Half-time

    Why would you get up at 4:30 a.m. on a Saturday so you can practice at 6:00 a.m.; perform in the parking lot for a dozen tailgaters at 8:30; join 319 of your best friends to sing, dance and play in front of a couple hundred people at 10:20; perform again in front of a thousand or so football fans at 10:40; play, march, and dance some more for a crowd that isn’t paying attention because half of them are leaving the stands to get a beer and a hot dog; and then take the field again at the end of the game to sing and play music while the fans are leaving?

    Post-game--still going strong
    Post-game–still going strong

    Why would you wear an itchy wool suit with short pants and a goofy hat with a plume when it’s 60/88/33 degrees and sunny/humid/sleeting and chant stuff like, “Eat ‘em raw. Eat up the (opposing team name goes here). Eat up the guts. Spit out the bones. March on.”

    Because of the sheer joy of playing music you like with people you like.

    Because of the pleasure of getting 320 souls to move in unison and perfectly pivot a giant University of Minnesota “M” on a fake grass field.Screen Shot 2013-09-26 at 9.30.51 PM

    Because it feels good to be part of something bigger than yourself.

    Being in marching band isn’t exactly about school spirit, although that plays a role.

    My favorite band geek
    My favorite band geek

    My favorite marching band geek tells me that after spending 500 hours a season with these people (marching, playing, hanging out, sharing a house, marching, playing) they’re your family. You may not like every one of them all of the time (and a few you won’t like ever, at all) but you love and depend on them. You’ve been through spat camp and freezing post-Thanksgiving games and bowl game trips with them. You’ve learned countless life lessons in band. He says, “There’s very little in life that’s quite the same as band and very little that will give me as much as this band has given me.”