Yesterday, I got stuck in the Clarendon Mardi Gras parade on my walk home from the gym. In this case, "stuck" means that instead of just planning my workout so I'd be on the elliptical machine for all of Jeopardy as usual, I also made sure I'd be walking home along the parade route when the festivities began. I couldn't help myself.
I've never actually experienced a Mardi Gras parade before - it's not quite as big a holiday in the Northeast. This one was pretty dinky, to be honest, but the people outside on the parade route had not been clued into this fact. They were shouting and dancing and calling for beads like they were actually in New Orleans. Little kids were wearing so many beads it looked like they were walking a bit bow-legged from the weight. I think my favorite float - if you can call it that - was the Red Top Cab company. Their contribution to the parade consisted of 2 of their cabs, decorated with a single strand of beads wrapped on each door handle. Way to catch the spirit!
But the best part - with no sarcasm this time - was the marching band that brought up the rear of the 2o minute parade. Unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the high school - I think I have to start carrying a camera at all times to properly augment this blog. Anywhosville, they kicked some serious ass. They had attitude. They had a kickin' drum core just oozing rhythm. They had a great sound. Basically, they had everything my high school marching band didn't.
I am a band-geek-wannabe. I love anything that has to do with teamwork and harmony (and harmonizing) so I should have loved marching band. My brother had a great time in our high school's band - but by the time I got there, the director that my bro had respected and admired had pretty much given up on teaching. The marching band consisted of 12 people, all forced to be there in order to pass band class and stay in concert or jazz band. I seriously contemplated trying out to be the kicker for the football team, since that was the only way out of this ridiculous obligation. We didn't even really march - we did what is unaffectionately known as "park and play." Walk out to the middle of the field, find your spot, stand still and blow. Boy, did we blow.
But when I see videos like this, or watch dumb movies like Drumline, I can't look away and my heart races in time to the cadence. If you ever thought band geeks were the uncoolest of the cool, you were wrong. That honor is reserved for people like me, who kinda wish they were band geeks.