I miss being in high school. I do. Well, a part of it anyway. I miss twirling my baton during halftime at football games and marching in the parades. It’s been many years since I wore the silver sequins of my captain’s uniform, but I still have my baton and my twirler’s jacket. I even pull the baton out from time to time and give it a spin. I still marvel in the way it catches the light as I toss it in the air. I loved the sound of the crowd clapping and cheering as we marched on the field. I have those memories tucked away, but sometimes I need to bring them out and dust them off.
Now, I’m living vicariously through my son and next year I’ll add my daughter to the mix. He’s in the high school marching band. He plays in the drum line and Noodge 2 will join him in the color guard. The marching band just finished their competition season placing 2nd in the State Championship. Many students were disappointed in their placement. They lost by such a little margin. But it’s what the band director said in an email that got to me. I’m quoting him: