After finally receiving my Bachelor's degree, it didn't take long before I found myself on the streets. Maybe this email plea that I sent out to all of my friends can clarify things:
Date: Apr 26, 2008
Subj: I'm Homeless! (with a bachelor's degree)
Hey, Everyone,
So, my lease is up tomorrow night and I'm getting kicked out of my apartment. Unfortunately, I cannot move into my sublet until May 1st. If anybody has an extra bedroom, or even a couch that I could live on from Sunday night through Wednesday night, and could help me out, please let me know. Everything from my apartment has been stored elsewhere, so I don't really have much stuff...just a couple small bags and my hamster.
Unlike some homeless people, I do have a bachelor's degree, and I'm clean, and I shower regularly, so you don't have to worry about that. My hamster on the other hand....well....at least he lives in a cage, which is more shelter than I have available at the moment. Anyway, please let me know if you can help me out. I really appreciate it!
Thanks!!!
-Paul
Luckily for me, I had several offers. Still, I knew that 'Kitty', my hamster, would be more of a hassle than my friends realized, so I decided that it would be best if I stayed at a different place each night.
For my first night, I stayed on my friend Travis' couch. He was already amused with my apparent homelessness, but he thought it very bizarre that I was walking the streets of Ann Arbor with a hamster cage in hand.
"What are you going to do with him while you're at work?", he asked.
Good question. Hmmmm. "I think I'm just going to leave him in the KKY/TBS office."
My fraternity had an office in the Michigan Union. Though, carrying a live animal through such a public place would likely be frowned upon. I ended up smuggling kitty's cage in underneath a sheet. Believe me, it was not discreet at all.
For Night Two, I stayed in Scott's condo. Kitty seemed much happier there at first, but Jek, Scott's dog, was absolutely out of control. He yapped constantly at the fuzzy critter that was only slightly smaller than himself. Before long, Kitty was panicked, and huddled in the corner of his cage in fear of a runt of a dog that no human being would ever find intimidating.
After another day of smuggling Kitty into the Union, I was offered an actual bed at my friend Jocelyn's house. Her roommate was out of town, so a whole room was available. At this point, it was obvious that Kitty was absolutely miserable. He had probably outgrown the cage, and wanted more than anything to get out, constantly trying to chew through the bars. I suppose this is partly my fault since I tended to overfeed him. Between me and Brian, we probably fed him twice as much hamster food as was recommended, and we both occassionally gave him little treats, like Wheat Thins or Cereal. Or Pasta. Or Steak. Or...Human Blood.
Anyway, I noticed that he really didn't fit in his cage anymore, and struggled to manuver through his little hamster tubes. "Just hang in there, Kitty," I told him. In one more day, I'd be in my new apartment, and I could finally let Kitty out for a bit.
During my last day of Kitty-smuggling, I was no longer making any attempts to be stealth. I walked right through the Union with my hamster cage out for the world to see, received the subsequent looks of shock, and held my head high. Not because I was proud, but because Kitty was really starting to smell bad.
"Just a couple more hours, Kitty." I placed his cage down on the desk in the KKY/TBS office, and grabbed my things to head to work. I think he may have understood me a little, because he seemed to be much less miserable all of a sudden, and started to run around the cage for a bit, weaving his fat hamster butt through the tubes.
After I finished work, I returned to the Union to pick up Kitty and take him to my new apartment. When I opened the door, a horrible, wretched sight lay before my eyes. Kitty was inside one of the tubes, his eyes and mouth wide open. He wasn't responding at all, and I quickly took apart the cage and pulled the tubes apart. I shook Kitty out of the tube and he plopped onto the floor of the cage like a rock. He was clearly dead, and moreover, he was soaking wet and reeked of urine.
It's difficult to put my frustration into words. Yes, I was upset that my beloved hamster died, but I think I was even more upset that I had worked so hard over the past few days taking care of him, only to have him die just before I moved into my new apartment. Apparently, all of my work was for nothing.
Could looking at the situation this way be considered cruel? Nah, I don't think so. Could disposing of him in the dumpster be considered cruel? I don't know. Could overfeeding your hamster, smuggling him around town, stuffing him in a cage too small for him, and causing him to get trapped in the hamster tubes and drown in his own piss be considered cruel? Well...umm...I....I think this blog entry needs to end now.
Showing posts with label Michigan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michigan. Show all posts
Thursday, December 25, 2008
The Graduate
I done graduated.What can I say about my four years as a student at The University of Michgan? I am proud to admit that many of the best and most important moments of my life have occurred during my time here. Looking back, so much has happened: Joining the Michigan Marching Band; becoming a fraternity brother; going to the Rose Bowl; witnessing my freshman roommate plummet from high school graduate to insane and drunken drug-abuser; learning to ski; performing in the University Band; the summer of hell at Universal Studios; marching my first pregame; December in San Antonio; volunteering in Mississippi; the summer of sexual harassment in Pasadena; becoming a rank leader; being elected president of my fraternity and gradually coming to terms with the fact that I don't always know what's best; another Rose Bowl; working for Malinda Matney at the Division of Student Affiars; writing my thesis on the ethics of BodyWorlds; winning the Governors' Cup; stepping down as president of my fraternity; studying abroad in France; joining the Central Student Judiciary; my senior year of band; experiencing the glory of "Paul Prog"; the Capitol One Bowl in Orlando; taking French and Portuguese; following my freshman year roommate disaster with three amazing roommates (Kevin, Manny, and Brian); performing in the MMB Saxophone Ensemble; getting a hamster; improving my skills as a student; making lifelong friends; and so many other things...
And now, I suppose I can add graduating to this list. The 2008 Commencement Ceremony at The University of Michigan was a bit unusual. Due to construction in Michigan Stadium, the University announced that graduation would be moved to Eastern Michigan University's stadium. As expected, the students were livid about this. In response to their anger, the administration hosted several student forums to try to find a solution to this issue.
As a student researcher in the Division of Student Affairs, I needed to attend these forums to administer surveys to the angry seniors. I understood why people were upset about the relocation of the commencement activities, but I myself was somewhat apathetic at the time. When the students were asked to give their thoughts, one girl's remarks stood out:
(Crazy) Girl: "Back in November, during the Ohio State game, I remember standing in that student section until the bitter end, feeling cold and miserable, and watching my team lose to Ohio State during my last home game. I turned to my friends behind me and said to them, 'Well, at least the next time I'm in this stadium it will be for a happier occassion.' Because I knew graduation would be a wonderful experience. And now, you....YOU!, the Administration, YOU are taking that experience away from me, and I think that that is absolutely, and unforgivably unacceptable!"
Whew! Standing there, wide-eyed, my first reaction was that this girl was insane, but then I noticed the other students around her nodding in agreement. Like I said before, I understood why these students would feel so passionately about this, but weren't they going a little overboard? Weren't they being a little harsh or unreasonable?
Here are my thoughts on the whole issue: I value my Michigan experiences just as much as, (and probably more than), any typical Michigan student. And that's just it: the "Experiences", all of those that I described before, those are the moments that I cherish. I really didn't care how or in what venue I would actually graduate. What matters to me are my four years of being a college student, not my final few hours.
After a long and arduous process, it was decided that commencement would be held on the Diag. Vice President Royster Harper told me that this would raise the cost of graduation from $500,000 to just under $1.8 million. Heh...I hope the University didn't lose any potential donors during this whole episode.
And, by the way, commencement on the Diag was sublime. It was a beautiful day, the blossoms and flowers were in bloom, and the speakers were magnificent. Many students still grumbled and complained, but I was happy, honored, and proud to call myself a Michigan Alum.
Me and Mom.
Me and Dad.
Mana and Uncle Mike
Mom and Mana.Sunday, December 21, 2008
The Victors
(to follow The Brothers)
And now we've come full circle. You can see that the final loss to Ohio State during my senior year at Michigan was certainly a heartbreaker. Perhaps my passion for Michigan Football and tradition had gone too far, but I don't regret that for a moment. And like I have said, the parallels between my senior years of college and high school have taught me to appreciate all that I have learned from my experiences, even if the end can't be so perfect.
Senior Altos with the "Senior Banner."
So, here we go. Now, after eight years of music, eight years of marching band, and eight years of heart-attack-inducing and drug-addition-triggering events, I had one final bowl game, and then I'd be done. We were slated to play in the Capital One Bowl in Orlando against the University of Florida. Here's the situation: Florida was the defending national champion, they were under the leadership of a Heisman-winning quarterback, and we'd have to play them in their home territory. We were huge underdogs, to put it mildly. This was slightly liberating, though. Since neither I nor any of my peers expected us to win, there was no tension. Our final bowl game would just be a relaxing few days of *FREE* vacation in Florida, a likely blowout loss in the bowl game, and then we'd head home.
Oh, yeah. I was a bus captain. Look how powerful I am.
As expected, the Capital One Bowl trip was more relaxing than trips in previous years. We were performing an easy modern Broadway show that didn't require much rehearsal. Most of our time was spent going to amusement parks or shopping. We spent New Year's Eve at Universal Studios Florida, where I managed to use my employee ID from my days at Universal Studios Hollywood to get 50% discounts for me and my friends. On top of that, I was REALLY impressed with the theme park. After working for a summer at Universal Studios Hollywood, I can vehemently and resolutely say that it is a HORRIBLE place. All of the visitors were always in a bad mood after waiting in endless lines for bad rides, only to wait in longer lines for disgusting food, and then hear me say to them, "Okay, chips and a soda will come out to.....$23.52." And then I would proceed to get verbally abused by them for hours on end, then I'd feel dumb and have to escape backstage to wallow in my own uselessness, and then I'd sense some slight comfort when the Dora the Explorer fuzzy character walked by, but then I'd freak out after she'd take off her mask and reveal a greasy looking guy from South Central with a black eye and a chip on his shoulder because "the man" wouldn't let him join the navy after he refused to confess to joyriding in a stolen vehicle.
Whoh, I got way off-track there. So, yeah. Universal Studios Florida. New Year's Eve. Better than expected. Huzzah!
When January 1st rolled around, the time had finally come to get spanked by Florida. To be honest, part of me still hoped for a win...just so Lloyd Carr could end his coaching career on a well-deserved high note, and also so the senior football players would earn a fulfulling win after four years of hard work and dedication. And just before I'd start to think that maybe...just maybe...we could actually win this thing, I'd remind myself that we were playing Florida, and then I'd pop some pills and cut my wrists a little bit and everything would go back to normal again.
From the beginning of the game, our offense looked a little different than usual. We were spreading the field more and throwing the ball more often. We scored a touchdown early, and, once again, my hopes lifted. Sure enough, Florida answered with two touchdown drives, and we were down 7-14. We managed to even it out with another touchdown, and then finished the first have with a remarkable drive to go up 21-14 with just eight seconds to go. We were BEATING Florida at halftime. Could it be too good to be true?
After some Wicked and Hairspray tunes, and some disco booty-shaking to "Dancing Queen", the second half was underway. A Mike Hart touchdown run stretched our lead to 28-14, and Florida subsequently tied it back up at 28-28 going into the fourth. In the final quarter, Florida's Percy Harvin scored to send Florida up 35-31. This was it. It had gone too far. My emotions had overcome any sense of reason, and I knew that my fellow seniors were in the same boat. We couldn't lose now...not with a win in reach. At this point, a loss would be like twisting the knife that Ohio State had so thoroughly plunged into our hearts.
Never fear, though, because Chad Henne and Adrian Arrington connected once more to solidify their career days with the final touchdown of the game. One late field goal completed the spectacular victory for the Maize and Blue. Final Score: Michigan 41 - Florida 35.
The feeling was sublime. It was unreal. Yet, it was so elegantly and perfectly appropriate. The coach and players deserved this win, and the world knew it. It was as if fate or karma was correcting itself; as if the lives of these individuals had perilously veered off track, but managed to steer back right before it was too late.
My fellow bandmembers and I stormed the field and joined the players in jubilation. If you asked me how I felt at this moment in time, I'm not sure I could give an adequate answer. Maybe there are no words than can really describe the emotion, or maybe there was no emotion to be felt. Happiness? Bliss? Perhaps at this point, we were simply beyond "feeling", and, here at the end, we had simply reached an "understanding;" an understanding that this was the way this particular story would end; this was the finale; this was the reconciliation between four evanescent years of dreaming and the final and absolute reality.
And as our eyes welled up and we began to truly appreciate this reality, I saw the players raise their beloved coach onto their shoulders. The rain was drizzling, as if serving as a gentle reminder of the obstacles overcome to get to this point. There they stood beneath the setting sun - the valiant leader and his victorious team. He hailed his players, and they hailed their mentor.
Far did our praises sing, as we bid farewell to an amazing coach - a true Michigan Man. We marched off of the field, fully sensing the finality of each step, because we knew this was it - we'd never come back to this. And, in recognition of the glory they bro't us on this final stage, among these friends and fans, we proudly hailed the victors one last time.
The Victors.
And now we've come full circle. You can see that the final loss to Ohio State during my senior year at Michigan was certainly a heartbreaker. Perhaps my passion for Michigan Football and tradition had gone too far, but I don't regret that for a moment. And like I have said, the parallels between my senior years of college and high school have taught me to appreciate all that I have learned from my experiences, even if the end can't be so perfect.
Senior Altos with the "Senior Banner."
So, here we go. Now, after eight years of music, eight years of marching band, and eight years of heart-attack-inducing and drug-addition-triggering events, I had one final bowl game, and then I'd be done. We were slated to play in the Capital One Bowl in Orlando against the University of Florida. Here's the situation: Florida was the defending national champion, they were under the leadership of a Heisman-winning quarterback, and we'd have to play them in their home territory. We were huge underdogs, to put it mildly. This was slightly liberating, though. Since neither I nor any of my peers expected us to win, there was no tension. Our final bowl game would just be a relaxing few days of *FREE* vacation in Florida, a likely blowout loss in the bowl game, and then we'd head home.
Oh, yeah. I was a bus captain. Look how powerful I am.
As expected, the Capital One Bowl trip was more relaxing than trips in previous years. We were performing an easy modern Broadway show that didn't require much rehearsal. Most of our time was spent going to amusement parks or shopping. We spent New Year's Eve at Universal Studios Florida, where I managed to use my employee ID from my days at Universal Studios Hollywood to get 50% discounts for me and my friends. On top of that, I was REALLY impressed with the theme park. After working for a summer at Universal Studios Hollywood, I can vehemently and resolutely say that it is a HORRIBLE place. All of the visitors were always in a bad mood after waiting in endless lines for bad rides, only to wait in longer lines for disgusting food, and then hear me say to them, "Okay, chips and a soda will come out to.....$23.52." And then I would proceed to get verbally abused by them for hours on end, then I'd feel dumb and have to escape backstage to wallow in my own uselessness, and then I'd sense some slight comfort when the Dora the Explorer fuzzy character walked by, but then I'd freak out after she'd take off her mask and reveal a greasy looking guy from South Central with a black eye and a chip on his shoulder because "the man" wouldn't let him join the navy after he refused to confess to joyriding in a stolen vehicle.
Whoh, I got way off-track there. So, yeah. Universal Studios Florida. New Year's Eve. Better than expected. Huzzah!
Universal Studios Florida
When January 1st rolled around, the time had finally come to get spanked by Florida. To be honest, part of me still hoped for a win...just so Lloyd Carr could end his coaching career on a well-deserved high note, and also so the senior football players would earn a fulfulling win after four years of hard work and dedication. And just before I'd start to think that maybe...just maybe...we could actually win this thing, I'd remind myself that we were playing Florida, and then I'd pop some pills and cut my wrists a little bit and everything would go back to normal again.
From the beginning of the game, our offense looked a little different than usual. We were spreading the field more and throwing the ball more often. We scored a touchdown early, and, once again, my hopes lifted. Sure enough, Florida answered with two touchdown drives, and we were down 7-14. We managed to even it out with another touchdown, and then finished the first have with a remarkable drive to go up 21-14 with just eight seconds to go. We were BEATING Florida at halftime. Could it be too good to be true?
Me and Dustin at the game.
After some Wicked and Hairspray tunes, and some disco booty-shaking to "Dancing Queen", the second half was underway. A Mike Hart touchdown run stretched our lead to 28-14, and Florida subsequently tied it back up at 28-28 going into the fourth. In the final quarter, Florida's Percy Harvin scored to send Florida up 35-31. This was it. It had gone too far. My emotions had overcome any sense of reason, and I knew that my fellow seniors were in the same boat. We couldn't lose now...not with a win in reach. At this point, a loss would be like twisting the knife that Ohio State had so thoroughly plunged into our hearts.
Never fear, though, because Chad Henne and Adrian Arrington connected once more to solidify their career days with the final touchdown of the game. One late field goal completed the spectacular victory for the Maize and Blue. Final Score: Michigan 41 - Florida 35.
The feeling was sublime. It was unreal. Yet, it was so elegantly and perfectly appropriate. The coach and players deserved this win, and the world knew it. It was as if fate or karma was correcting itself; as if the lives of these individuals had perilously veered off track, but managed to steer back right before it was too late.
The Altos after the big win.
My fellow bandmembers and I stormed the field and joined the players in jubilation. If you asked me how I felt at this moment in time, I'm not sure I could give an adequate answer. Maybe there are no words than can really describe the emotion, or maybe there was no emotion to be felt. Happiness? Bliss? Perhaps at this point, we were simply beyond "feeling", and, here at the end, we had simply reached an "understanding;" an understanding that this was the way this particular story would end; this was the finale; this was the reconciliation between four evanescent years of dreaming and the final and absolute reality.
And as our eyes welled up and we began to truly appreciate this reality, I saw the players raise their beloved coach onto their shoulders. The rain was drizzling, as if serving as a gentle reminder of the obstacles overcome to get to this point. There they stood beneath the setting sun - the valiant leader and his victorious team. He hailed his players, and they hailed their mentor.
Far did our praises sing, as we bid farewell to an amazing coach - a true Michigan Man. We marched off of the field, fully sensing the finality of each step, because we knew this was it - we'd never come back to this. And, in recognition of the glory they bro't us on this final stage, among these friends and fans, we proudly hailed the victors one last time.
The Victors.
The Brothers
(to follow The Bay St. Louis Blues)
When it comes to my music experience during my junior year in college, my performing actually took a backseat to my leadership work and my life as president of my fraternity chapter.
My fraternity, Kappa Kappa Psi, is a national fraternity that focuses primarily on service to college bands. When I joined the brotherhood, I thought it would be a cool way to synthesize my musicianship with my desire to do service. Still, I wasn't very enthusiastic at first. I thought it would be a good way to meet people, but I didn't see myself becoming too involved.
And so, of course, I soon found myself running for president. Some of my friends and former leaders in the fraternity urged me to do it, partially because they thought I would do a good job, and partially because there didn't seem to be anyone else willing to step up. Whatever the reason, I reluctantly ran for the job, and won.
Clearly, I went into this position with the wrong attitude. Not only was my heart not completely in it, but I think I felt like I could do no wrong since some of my friends had practically begged me to run. I didn't seem to recognize the fact that I could make any bad decisions. I thought my brothers should just be happy to have me as an officer.
It didn't take long for me to learn my lesson. Some of my fellow officers questioned my opinions on our projects. At first, I simply disregarded them. After they persisted, I began to resent them for rejecting my ideas of what was best. In reality, I was a little intimidated, and I was in denial of my own shortcomings. Sure, a lot of their concerns and arguments were petty, but after a while I realized that there was some truth in their opinions.
I kept this in mind, trying to humble myself and change my attitude. Instead, I focused on improving myself as a leader rather than assuming I was already good at my job. And sure enough, I saw that my former mentality was actually common throughout my chapter. For years, our Kappa Kappa Psi chapter at Michigan had been one of the stronger and leading chapters in the midwest, but we were also complacent, and never really tried to find ways to make ourselves better. Why hadn't we won the Governors' Cup in years? Why didn't we get more awards and recognition? Complacency. THAT was our problem.
For the rest of the year, I tried to inspire a new attitude within the chapter to combat this attitude. We all tried to spearhead new and innovative projects, like a Band Directors' convention, and a high school Mentorship Program.
When March rolled around, it was once again time for the Kappa Kappa Psi North Central District Convention. This was an annual event where brothers across the midwest could attend workshops and bid for awards and honors. Once again, we were bidding for the Governors' Cup. Typically, this would involve a presentation to the Governors' and District Officers describing how great we are. However, this year we took a different approach. We described our issues with complacency, and discussed what we were doing to purge the attitude from our chapter. Additionally, as president, I was required to attend several Governors' summits, during which I had to share my thoughts on the fraternity with chapter presidents and national officers, and I was constantly being judged on what I was saying. It was an intimidating and stimulating experience.
It was the last award announced. The anxiety was building until they finally made the annoucement. "The 2007 Governors' Cup goes to...The Nu Chapter of The University of Michigan."
I walked to the front of the hall to pick up the award, applause all around. When I returned to the table, I saw the faces of my brothers glowing with pride and excitement. At that moment, I felt honored to lead such an amazing group of hard-working students.
They each touched the award and took photos with it. I think they all had similar thoughts when they saw the Cup up close. I mean, it wasn't really the nicest trophy. It was just...a thing. We all knew that the trophy itself didn't matter as much as what it represented. Our fraternity had changed a lot over the past year. We began to realize what "brotherhood" actually signified. Now, we were constantly growing and striving, and we knew we could always rely on each other for care and support.
When it comes to my music experience during my junior year in college, my performing actually took a backseat to my leadership work and my life as president of my fraternity chapter.
My fraternity, Kappa Kappa Psi, is a national fraternity that focuses primarily on service to college bands. When I joined the brotherhood, I thought it would be a cool way to synthesize my musicianship with my desire to do service. Still, I wasn't very enthusiastic at first. I thought it would be a good way to meet people, but I didn't see myself becoming too involved.
And so, of course, I soon found myself running for president. Some of my friends and former leaders in the fraternity urged me to do it, partially because they thought I would do a good job, and partially because there didn't seem to be anyone else willing to step up. Whatever the reason, I reluctantly ran for the job, and won.
Clearly, I went into this position with the wrong attitude. Not only was my heart not completely in it, but I think I felt like I could do no wrong since some of my friends had practically begged me to run. I didn't seem to recognize the fact that I could make any bad decisions. I thought my brothers should just be happy to have me as an officer.
It didn't take long for me to learn my lesson. Some of my fellow officers questioned my opinions on our projects. At first, I simply disregarded them. After they persisted, I began to resent them for rejecting my ideas of what was best. In reality, I was a little intimidated, and I was in denial of my own shortcomings. Sure, a lot of their concerns and arguments were petty, but after a while I realized that there was some truth in their opinions.
I kept this in mind, trying to humble myself and change my attitude. Instead, I focused on improving myself as a leader rather than assuming I was already good at my job. And sure enough, I saw that my former mentality was actually common throughout my chapter. For years, our Kappa Kappa Psi chapter at Michigan had been one of the stronger and leading chapters in the midwest, but we were also complacent, and never really tried to find ways to make ourselves better. Why hadn't we won the Governors' Cup in years? Why didn't we get more awards and recognition? Complacency. THAT was our problem.
For the rest of the year, I tried to inspire a new attitude within the chapter to combat this attitude. We all tried to spearhead new and innovative projects, like a Band Directors' convention, and a high school Mentorship Program.
When March rolled around, it was once again time for the Kappa Kappa Psi North Central District Convention. This was an annual event where brothers across the midwest could attend workshops and bid for awards and honors. Once again, we were bidding for the Governors' Cup. Typically, this would involve a presentation to the Governors' and District Officers describing how great we are. However, this year we took a different approach. We described our issues with complacency, and discussed what we were doing to purge the attitude from our chapter. Additionally, as president, I was required to attend several Governors' summits, during which I had to share my thoughts on the fraternity with chapter presidents and national officers, and I was constantly being judged on what I was saying. It was an intimidating and stimulating experience.
Good thing we don't have any height requirements.
The final night of the convention consisted of the Awards Banquet. I was nervous throughout dinner. The Governors' Cup wasn't important to me because of the name and the prestige. Rather, it was important because I wanted my fellow brothers to have something to be proud of - something that would legitimize their efforts to change the way they looked at the fraternity.It was the last award announced. The anxiety was building until they finally made the annoucement. "The 2007 Governors' Cup goes to...The Nu Chapter of The University of Michigan."
I walked to the front of the hall to pick up the award, applause all around. When I returned to the table, I saw the faces of my brothers glowing with pride and excitement. At that moment, I felt honored to lead such an amazing group of hard-working students.
They each touched the award and took photos with it. I think they all had similar thoughts when they saw the Cup up close. I mean, it wasn't really the nicest trophy. It was just...a thing. We all knew that the trophy itself didn't matter as much as what it represented. Our fraternity had changed a lot over the past year. We began to realize what "brotherhood" actually signified. Now, we were constantly growing and striving, and we knew we could always rely on each other for care and support.
And I guess the Governors' Cup itself was pretty cool to look at. Though, we would never dream of possibly using it to serve drinks, of course. Tra la la la. ;-)
The Bros.
The Bros.
The Bay St. Louis Blues
(to follow The Roses, Revisited)
I think I've made this point quite clear: My musical experiences have significantly enhanced and appreciated my personal growth throughout my life. I will forever value the opportunities that have been available to me as a result of this. And what better way to recognize the value of these skills than give others the chance to have the same sort of experiences?
During my sophomore year at Michigan, Hurricane Katrina terrorized the Gulf Coast. From miles away in Michigan, we could only hear stories and see pictures of the destruction, but we couldn't really fathom its enormity. We had heard that entire high schools had been washed away and were having difficulties rebuilding. My fraternity brothers and I spearheaded an instrument and music drive in the Detroit area to gather instruments for a high school music program that was destroyed and discontinued due to the hurricane.
By the time Spring Break rolled around, we had gathered $40,000 worth of instruments, and were preparing to caravan and deliver them to a needy high school in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. While others were tanning in Cancun, we crammed 16 people into 4 cars, and began driving south. After my initial concerns, I was happy to see that Alabama and Mississippi weren't quite as backwards as I thought. I mean...they did actually have roads, and electricity, and even a couple of democrats over down thar.
When we got to Bay St. Louis, the destruction was mindblowing. Seven months after the Hurricane, it looked as if the area was devastated only recently. Clearly, reconstruction was a formidable task, and Bay St. Louis was not getting as much attention as the bigger cities like New Orleans. We delivered the instruments to St. Stanislaus High School, where the principal gave us a tour and vivid description of the extent of the damage. The band director was elated to see our donation, as he was laid off due to the fact that there was no band room in which to teach, and could now regain his position and better support his wife and newborn baby. To celebrate the donation, some of the students joined us in performing at the Bay St. Louis Mardi Gras Parade. I was part of the makeshift drumline as a cymbal player. Our performance quality fell somewhere in between "amateur" and "drunken USC Trojan band sound."
In addition to all of this, we did some volunteer work clearing debris, repairing electrical damage, and rebuilding a kitchen. My duties involved ripping rotten floorboards away and replacing them with better tiling. In all honesty, I was really REALLY bad at this. I felt like I was doing more permanent damage than Hurricane Katrina itself, yet the lead volunteers assured me that I was only slightly inept.
We also replaced an entire roof that was rotting away from the rain damage. Now, I could actually handle this task. In fact, I'd say that I did a pretty decent job even. Perhaps holding the powerful nail gun in my hands just amplified my confidence and efficiency. Maybe that's why these Southerners love their guns and NRA memberships. It gives them a false sense of confidence and strength that blinds them from their own incompetence. I mean...uhhh....yeah, guns rock! Hey, y'all, let's build us a dad-gamn roof and then head over to Applebee's for some beers and some ribs! And then we'll get drunk and go obliterate Auburn in the Iron Bowl! Go, BAMA! Go, DUBYA! Long live the Confederacy!
Ooops...focus focus focus. Anyway, in the end, it was a great and fulfilling trip. It really inspired us to value those opportunities that we often take for granted, like even having THE CHANCE to play an instrument in high school. Hopefully our work was successful in offering these Mississippi students a sense of normalcy since the hurricane.
Since we left, the donated instruments have been put to use, and the high school band program has been reinstated. So, if you ever find yourself in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, stop by and listen to the St. Stanislaus band and let me know how they sound! But, if you see any rebuilt roofs that have recently collapsed....well....no.....you don't have to let me know about that.
I think I've made this point quite clear: My musical experiences have significantly enhanced and appreciated my personal growth throughout my life. I will forever value the opportunities that have been available to me as a result of this. And what better way to recognize the value of these skills than give others the chance to have the same sort of experiences?
During my sophomore year at Michigan, Hurricane Katrina terrorized the Gulf Coast. From miles away in Michigan, we could only hear stories and see pictures of the destruction, but we couldn't really fathom its enormity. We had heard that entire high schools had been washed away and were having difficulties rebuilding. My fraternity brothers and I spearheaded an instrument and music drive in the Detroit area to gather instruments for a high school music program that was destroyed and discontinued due to the hurricane.
By the time Spring Break rolled around, we had gathered $40,000 worth of instruments, and were preparing to caravan and deliver them to a needy high school in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. While others were tanning in Cancun, we crammed 16 people into 4 cars, and began driving south. After my initial concerns, I was happy to see that Alabama and Mississippi weren't quite as backwards as I thought. I mean...they did actually have roads, and electricity, and even a couple of democrats over down thar.
When we got to Bay St. Louis, the destruction was mindblowing. Seven months after the Hurricane, it looked as if the area was devastated only recently. Clearly, reconstruction was a formidable task, and Bay St. Louis was not getting as much attention as the bigger cities like New Orleans. We delivered the instruments to St. Stanislaus High School, where the principal gave us a tour and vivid description of the extent of the damage. The band director was elated to see our donation, as he was laid off due to the fact that there was no band room in which to teach, and could now regain his position and better support his wife and newborn baby. To celebrate the donation, some of the students joined us in performing at the Bay St. Louis Mardi Gras Parade. I was part of the makeshift drumline as a cymbal player. Our performance quality fell somewhere in between "amateur" and "drunken USC Trojan band sound."
In addition to all of this, we did some volunteer work clearing debris, repairing electrical damage, and rebuilding a kitchen. My duties involved ripping rotten floorboards away and replacing them with better tiling. In all honesty, I was really REALLY bad at this. I felt like I was doing more permanent damage than Hurricane Katrina itself, yet the lead volunteers assured me that I was only slightly inept.
We also replaced an entire roof that was rotting away from the rain damage. Now, I could actually handle this task. In fact, I'd say that I did a pretty decent job even. Perhaps holding the powerful nail gun in my hands just amplified my confidence and efficiency. Maybe that's why these Southerners love their guns and NRA memberships. It gives them a false sense of confidence and strength that blinds them from their own incompetence. I mean...uhhh....yeah, guns rock! Hey, y'all, let's build us a dad-gamn roof and then head over to Applebee's for some beers and some ribs! And then we'll get drunk and go obliterate Auburn in the Iron Bowl! Go, BAMA! Go, DUBYA! Long live the Confederacy!
Ooops...focus focus focus. Anyway, in the end, it was a great and fulfilling trip. It really inspired us to value those opportunities that we often take for granted, like even having THE CHANCE to play an instrument in high school. Hopefully our work was successful in offering these Mississippi students a sense of normalcy since the hurricane.
Since we left, the donated instruments have been put to use, and the high school band program has been reinstated. So, if you ever find yourself in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, stop by and listen to the St. Stanislaus band and let me know how they sound! But, if you see any rebuilt roofs that have recently collapsed....well....no.....you don't have to let me know about that.
The Roses, Revisited
(to follow The EuroTrip)
Down 17 points with just seven minutes in the game, I started to think that it had all been too good to be true. There I was, six months removed from my life as a high school student in La Canada - only now the word "Spartan" invoked a virulent disdain in my mind. No, I didn't resent my high school roots. I merely shifted into my new life as a Michigan Wolverine, moving on from my red and gold band uniform to sport my new Maize and Blue digs. And on this cold night in October 2004, I was watching the Michigan State Spartans manhandle my beloved team 27-10.
Here's the situation: We were just a few wins away from a Big Ten Title. A conference championship would mean a return to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. For me, it was my chance to return to my home - to the friends and family that supported me unconditionally throughout my life - and show them what I had accomplished since high school, that I wanted to represent my community in the best way possible since I moved away, and that I was proud of my roots. With each passing week of the season, this prospect seemed more and more likely, but these Green and White Spartans were just about to prevent that dream from ever coming to fruition.
With around six minutes to go, kicker Garrett Rivas nailed a 24-yarder, narrowing the margin to 27-13. Even so, the crowd behind me didn't seem optimistic. Moments later, we successfully recovered an onside kick, making things more interesting. Then it happened: two quick plays, and Braylon Edwards caught a beautiful 36-yard pass in the endzone just a couple of yards in front of where I was standing. On the next drive, another beautiful touchdown pass to Braylon Edwards caused me to jump so high that I came down hard and thouroughly destroyed my chair. 27-27 at the end of the fourth. Tie game.
Three overtimes, one field goal, and two spectacular touchdowns later, I found myself storming the field with my fellow Maize and Blue-clad bandmembers. Words cannot describe the joy I felt as I cheered and gazed at a beautiful sight on the Michigan Stadium scoreboard. Michigan 45 - MSU 37.
The next few weeks passed quickly. Everything was falling into place. After Wisconsin's fall from grace, Michigan had clinched a bid to the Rose Bowl. My little brother, the Prap, would be marching in the Rose Parade with the Tournament of Roses Honor Band. It even looked like my older brother would be joining the party, as Cal Football seemed to be Rose Bowl bound, as well. On top of all of this, the theme of the Rose Parade was "Celebrate Family." Was it fate? Whatever it was, something glorious seemed to be happening.
Now, one thing stood in my way: "Final Look." This was the last challenge of the year in the Michigan Marching Band. We would be trying out for a spot in the Rose Bowl, and seeing as how my section was one of the most competative in the band, my chances were not good. Still, I wanted so badly to go home and perform for my friends and family that I prepared relentlessly for the challenge. I spent the weekend videotaping my technique, and even went to the practice field late at night to improve my fundamentals. In my mind, NOT making this game was simply not an option.
The night of Final Look finally arrived. I was confident, and I knew I had prepared as best as I possibly could. When it was my turn, I took a deep breath, waited for the whistle command, and stepped off. Like every challenge, the experience is so nerveracking that, once it's over, you can't remember ANY of it. All I felt was my confidence being replaced with anxiety. In a few hours, the results would be posted online. All I could do was wait.
For some wildly idiotic reason, all of the altos decided to get together and wait until the list was posted. I thought this was strange, since it was bound to be awkward. Half of the people in the room would receive happy news, while the others would be devastated. Anyway, my prediction turned out to be true. The list came out, some were upset, and some were ecstatic. And fortunately for me, I was among the latter.
Yes, I would be returning home to perform for my community. In fact, I was one of the only freshman woodwinds to even be selected to go. The pride I felt seemed to be
everlasting. For the next month, every time I reminded myself that I was going to the Rose Bowl - that I would be marching in the greatest parade in the world for the third consecutive year - I could not help but smile...Which probably explains the awkward looks I received from others walking by me on the streets. Whatever.
The Rose Bowl trip itself was sublime. We actually practiced on my high school field, the very field on which I had graduated just months before, and the very field where I spent countless hours practicing with the La Canada High School Band. With my high school peers in attendance, I couldn't help but feel like I had come full circle. What were the odds that I would be there again? What were the odds that I would be marching the Rose Parade one more time? Only this time with hundreds of new friends, and a new fight song.
Each day of the trip was euphoric. We performed at Universal Studios, where I had led a parade just a year before. We played at the Rose Bowl's kickoff luncheon, where I waved at my friend Kara as she stood among the other Rose Princesses. We blasted The Victors down Colorado Boulevard, where I had marched for upwards of 20 miles over three New Year's Days. And we cheered our team in the Rose Bowl - the granddaddy of all bowl games - in one of the greatest and most exciting games of my life.
This entire experience is a testament to the value and importance of my musical education. It's amazing what opportunities can arise just from learning how to play the saxophone. For others, the "Freshman Experience" consisted of getting drunk, gaining weight, and growing a filthy beard. Mine was different. I used my musical background to become part of something great, which undeniably enhanced my college career.
Forget the fact that we lost to Texas on a last-second field goal. There are greater emotions than those that result from a win. I was proud of how far I had come over the past six months...even if I was standing in some of the same places I had been before. Spartan or Wolverine. "Red and Gold" or "Maize and Blue". La Canada, California or Ann Arbor, Michigan. Regardless of the label or mascot or colors, it's fulfilling to be part of a community of people who will cheer you on and support you no matter what.
Well, as long as that community isn't Texas. Their fans actually pelted us with sirloin steaks after the game. Good fans shouldn't take their victories over Michigan and rub them in our faces, though I understand that these things are 'rare'. Or maybe they were 'medium-well'. I don't remember.
The MMB visits The LC.
Down 17 points with just seven minutes in the game, I started to think that it had all been too good to be true. There I was, six months removed from my life as a high school student in La Canada - only now the word "Spartan" invoked a virulent disdain in my mind. No, I didn't resent my high school roots. I merely shifted into my new life as a Michigan Wolverine, moving on from my red and gold band uniform to sport my new Maize and Blue digs. And on this cold night in October 2004, I was watching the Michigan State Spartans manhandle my beloved team 27-10.
Here's the situation: We were just a few wins away from a Big Ten Title. A conference championship would mean a return to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. For me, it was my chance to return to my home - to the friends and family that supported me unconditionally throughout my life - and show them what I had accomplished since high school, that I wanted to represent my community in the best way possible since I moved away, and that I was proud of my roots. With each passing week of the season, this prospect seemed more and more likely, but these Green and White Spartans were just about to prevent that dream from ever coming to fruition.
With around six minutes to go, kicker Garrett Rivas nailed a 24-yarder, narrowing the margin to 27-13. Even so, the crowd behind me didn't seem optimistic. Moments later, we successfully recovered an onside kick, making things more interesting. Then it happened: two quick plays, and Braylon Edwards caught a beautiful 36-yard pass in the endzone just a couple of yards in front of where I was standing. On the next drive, another beautiful touchdown pass to Braylon Edwards caused me to jump so high that I came down hard and thouroughly destroyed my chair. 27-27 at the end of the fourth. Tie game.
Three overtimes, one field goal, and two spectacular touchdowns later, I found myself storming the field with my fellow Maize and Blue-clad bandmembers. Words cannot describe the joy I felt as I cheered and gazed at a beautiful sight on the Michigan Stadium scoreboard. Michigan 45 - MSU 37.
The next few weeks passed quickly. Everything was falling into place. After Wisconsin's fall from grace, Michigan had clinched a bid to the Rose Bowl. My little brother, the Prap, would be marching in the Rose Parade with the Tournament of Roses Honor Band. It even looked like my older brother would be joining the party, as Cal Football seemed to be Rose Bowl bound, as well. On top of all of this, the theme of the Rose Parade was "Celebrate Family." Was it fate? Whatever it was, something glorious seemed to be happening.
Now, one thing stood in my way: "Final Look." This was the last challenge of the year in the Michigan Marching Band. We would be trying out for a spot in the Rose Bowl, and seeing as how my section was one of the most competative in the band, my chances were not good. Still, I wanted so badly to go home and perform for my friends and family that I prepared relentlessly for the challenge. I spent the weekend videotaping my technique, and even went to the practice field late at night to improve my fundamentals. In my mind, NOT making this game was simply not an option.
The night of Final Look finally arrived. I was confident, and I knew I had prepared as best as I possibly could. When it was my turn, I took a deep breath, waited for the whistle command, and stepped off. Like every challenge, the experience is so nerveracking that, once it's over, you can't remember ANY of it. All I felt was my confidence being replaced with anxiety. In a few hours, the results would be posted online. All I could do was wait.
For some wildly idiotic reason, all of the altos decided to get together and wait until the list was posted. I thought this was strange, since it was bound to be awkward. Half of the people in the room would receive happy news, while the others would be devastated. Anyway, my prediction turned out to be true. The list came out, some were upset, and some were ecstatic. And fortunately for me, I was among the latter.
Yes, I would be returning home to perform for my community. In fact, I was one of the only freshman woodwinds to even be selected to go. The pride I felt seemed to be
everlasting. For the next month, every time I reminded myself that I was going to the Rose Bowl - that I would be marching in the greatest parade in the world for the third consecutive year - I could not help but smile...Which probably explains the awkward looks I received from others walking by me on the streets. Whatever.The Rose Bowl trip itself was sublime. We actually practiced on my high school field, the very field on which I had graduated just months before, and the very field where I spent countless hours practicing with the La Canada High School Band. With my high school peers in attendance, I couldn't help but feel like I had come full circle. What were the odds that I would be there again? What were the odds that I would be marching the Rose Parade one more time? Only this time with hundreds of new friends, and a new fight song.
Each day of the trip was euphoric. We performed at Universal Studios, where I had led a parade just a year before. We played at the Rose Bowl's kickoff luncheon, where I waved at my friend Kara as she stood among the other Rose Princesses. We blasted The Victors down Colorado Boulevard, where I had marched for upwards of 20 miles over three New Year's Days. And we cheered our team in the Rose Bowl - the granddaddy of all bowl games - in one of the greatest and most exciting games of my life.
This entire experience is a testament to the value and importance of my musical education. It's amazing what opportunities can arise just from learning how to play the saxophone. For others, the "Freshman Experience" consisted of getting drunk, gaining weight, and growing a filthy beard. Mine was different. I used my musical background to become part of something great, which undeniably enhanced my college career.
Forget the fact that we lost to Texas on a last-second field goal. There are greater emotions than those that result from a win. I was proud of how far I had come over the past six months...even if I was standing in some of the same places I had been before. Spartan or Wolverine. "Red and Gold" or "Maize and Blue". La Canada, California or Ann Arbor, Michigan. Regardless of the label or mascot or colors, it's fulfilling to be part of a community of people who will cheer you on and support you no matter what.
Well, as long as that community isn't Texas. Their fans actually pelted us with sirloin steaks after the game. Good fans shouldn't take their victories over Michigan and rub them in our faces, though I understand that these things are 'rare'. Or maybe they were 'medium-well'. I don't remember.
The MMB visits The LC.
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Tears and the Years
freshman year.As I stood on the ladder conducting my friends, I couldn’t help but feel that I had been in this position before…conducting under a cold sheet of rain, amidst a sad and tragic atmosphere. In many ways, my band experience during my senior year of high school ended in a similar state. The ups and downs…the hopes and dreams…and the final heartrending and disappointing swan song…but that’s a story for another day.
The point is this: After four years of putting your heart and soul into something, you begin to
formulate an ideal end – a grand finale – in your thoughts. The fulfillment of this dream, this quintessential conclusion, becomes supremely important. To miss out on the fruition of this, only to experience tragic defeat, is an unfortunate and unwelcome reality.Sure, at first this seemed devastating. Many of my peers were even crying, and I really couldn’t blame them. Still, I realized that one loss does not completely determine the success or failure of four years of my life. I thought back to the advice I offered the future drum majors when I stepped down from that role at the end of my senior year in high school:
“Remember, it’s not the end result that matters. What matters is the journey you take to get there. Always try to take the right path.”
So there you have it. Despite the bitter end, I have a lot of proud moments to look back on. The triple-overtime win over MSU. My personal Rose Bowl homecoming. The thrilling victory over Penn State. The destruction of Brady Quinn and the Irish. The Game of the Century against Ohio State. This year’s gutsy wins over Illinois and MSU.
As I marched off the field on this cold, emotional day, I thought: Today’s loss doesn’t undermine the emotion and the pride I have felt over the past four years. It merely reminds me that the world is full of trials and tribulations, but life does not have to be absolutely perfect in
order to be fulfilling. I have been a part of great things in this stadium, and those are the memories that I will carry with me forever. Those are the events that make me who I am. And those are the moments that I kept in my thoughts as I walked out of the stadium one last time, amidst the cool, silent air…beneath the gentle glow of the Saturday night lights.And now back to that quote from my senior year. That’s a pretty mature statement coming from a 17-year old. I’m pretty impressed…and I’m ‘me’. Now that the season is over, and Bowl Trip is over a month away, I should reflect on my lifelong band experience. What led me to see things the way I do; To see that…between the good and the bad...the weeks and the months…the tears and the years, we must always remember to appreciate our successes, and learn from our missteps.
And if we make sure to remember that…then no, we really can’t lose, can we?
The Big Game
November 17, 2007. Michigan Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Ohio State Buckeyes
Gameday. We were focused. We meant business. I arrived on the steps of Revelli Hall at dawn and joined my fellow seniors for one final performance of “Salvation is Created”. As the sun rose, the light shone off the dewed sidewalks, reflecting the iridescent colors of fall, of our instruments, of the morning sky, and of the maize and blue atmosphere. With each ascending line of the magnificent piece, I yearned more for my own salvation; for the glory that this day could bring for Michigan faithful.
The rigor and intensity of the marching rehearsal was assuaged by the cool morning breeze. The practice was almost a formality. We knew we were prepared. It was almost as if the difficulty of this particular show scared us into focusing that much harder…just so we would be ready for the game. The Alto Tailgate was delicious as usual, but I was less focused on stuffing my face and more focused on watching ESPN College Gameday and getting into my uniform.
I went back to my apartment with Tom and Dustin to get changed. Seeing Ann Arbor on College Gameday was pretty exciting. We verbally abused Kirk Herbsteit while putting on our uniforms for our final march to the stadium. We even wore eyeblack to look that much more intimidating. Then we joined our fellow section members and paraded to the Big House. Even though the air was frigid, the rain was falling, and the odds were against us, we remained focused on the task at hand.
My final pregame in Michigan Stadium was a tearjerker. It’s impossible to adequately describe the feeling of coming out of the tunnel. Just imagine the nothingness…the utter silence within the concrete walls of Michigan Stadium,
save for one constant drumbeat, beating in tempo with the hearts and minds of 235 maize and blue-clad musicians. Immediately, the silence vanishes behind you as if it never existed, and is replaced by the raucous cheering of 112,000 passionate fans in every direction. The first note of “M Fanfare” ignites the air, fueled by the ageless Michigan tradition. Even after all these years, the overwhelming nature of the piece still engages the fans, making them feel as if they are hearing it for the first time. As we march across the field to the tune of “The Victors,” the weight of our legs becomes exponentially more burdensome. However, the singing and chanting voices of the crowd serve as a momentary steroid, stimulating our adrenaline and inspiring us to push ourselves to the limit. Meanwhile, the faint boos of the opposing fans are heard in the background, just enough to make their presence known and motivate our Michigan pride. As we march off the field, it seems as if the last twelve minutes were both the shortest and longest of our lives. The perpetual struggle to endure the difficulty of pregame, compounded with the ephemeral transition from silence to riotous cheering to fleeting exhilaration, all of which is elegantly moderated by the timeless emotion and tradition that is 'Michigan Football'.
The game we were waiting for was finally underway. Chad Henne and Mike Hart were both playing, and we took a 3-0 lead early on. The band members around me were as fiery as I had seen them, treating our momentary lead with both satisfaction and guarded optimism. OSU’s running back Chris ‘Beanie’ Wells became the bulk of the opposing offense. He scored a touchdown in the second quarter, and OSU led 7-3 at the half. So far, it was a defensive struggle, but the cheers from band members did not subside. We took the field for our halftime performance, pouring our collective energy into the final challenging show in Michigan Stadium.
After halftime, the crowd was rejuvenated. We returned to our seats to cheer on our heroes, our efforts bolstered by the screams of the nearby student section. Before long, however, Beanie Wells silenced those cheers with an early third quarter touchdown. Suddenly, the student section was not a factor. The energy and excitement seemed limited to just the band section. We continued to cheer, but the football team produced one three-and-out after another. Slowly, the cheers around me subsided and the marching band crowd absorbed into the silence of th
e student section. Each subsequent three-and-out was like a twist of a knife. All of the faces around me showed concern and heartbreak. The icy rain and moldy marching band raincoats only added to our misery. As the fourth quarter wound down, all hope seemed lost. The reality was that the senior football players would indeed finish 0-4 against their bitter rival. I would graduate without ever beating OSU. And as the clock struck zero, Lloyd Carr walked off the field one last time, with a tragic loss in his final home game.
Final Score: Ohio State 14 – Michigan 3
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Ohio State Buckeyes
Gameday. We were focused. We meant business. I arrived on the steps of Revelli Hall at dawn and joined my fellow seniors for one final performance of “Salvation is Created”. As the sun rose, the light shone off the dewed sidewalks, reflecting the iridescent colors of fall, of our instruments, of the morning sky, and of the maize and blue atmosphere. With each ascending line of the magnificent piece, I yearned more for my own salvation; for the glory that this day could bring for Michigan faithful.
The rigor and intensity of the marching rehearsal was assuaged by the cool morning breeze. The practice was almost a formality. We knew we were prepared. It was almost as if the difficulty of this particular show scared us into focusing that much harder…just so we would be ready for the game. The Alto Tailgate was delicious as usual, but I was less focused on stuffing my face and more focused on watching ESPN College Gameday and getting into my uniform.
I went back to my apartment with Tom and Dustin to get changed. Seeing Ann Arbor on College Gameday was pretty exciting. We verbally abused Kirk Herbsteit while putting on our uniforms for our final march to the stadium. We even wore eyeblack to look that much more intimidating. Then we joined our fellow section members and paraded to the Big House. Even though the air was frigid, the rain was falling, and the odds were against us, we remained focused on the task at hand.My final pregame in Michigan Stadium was a tearjerker. It’s impossible to adequately describe the feeling of coming out of the tunnel. Just imagine the nothingness…the utter silence within the concrete walls of Michigan Stadium,
save for one constant drumbeat, beating in tempo with the hearts and minds of 235 maize and blue-clad musicians. Immediately, the silence vanishes behind you as if it never existed, and is replaced by the raucous cheering of 112,000 passionate fans in every direction. The first note of “M Fanfare” ignites the air, fueled by the ageless Michigan tradition. Even after all these years, the overwhelming nature of the piece still engages the fans, making them feel as if they are hearing it for the first time. As we march across the field to the tune of “The Victors,” the weight of our legs becomes exponentially more burdensome. However, the singing and chanting voices of the crowd serve as a momentary steroid, stimulating our adrenaline and inspiring us to push ourselves to the limit. Meanwhile, the faint boos of the opposing fans are heard in the background, just enough to make their presence known and motivate our Michigan pride. As we march off the field, it seems as if the last twelve minutes were both the shortest and longest of our lives. The perpetual struggle to endure the difficulty of pregame, compounded with the ephemeral transition from silence to riotous cheering to fleeting exhilaration, all of which is elegantly moderated by the timeless emotion and tradition that is 'Michigan Football'.The game we were waiting for was finally underway. Chad Henne and Mike Hart were both playing, and we took a 3-0 lead early on. The band members around me were as fiery as I had seen them, treating our momentary lead with both satisfaction and guarded optimism. OSU’s running back Chris ‘Beanie’ Wells became the bulk of the opposing offense. He scored a touchdown in the second quarter, and OSU led 7-3 at the half. So far, it was a defensive struggle, but the cheers from band members did not subside. We took the field for our halftime performance, pouring our collective energy into the final challenging show in Michigan Stadium.
After halftime, the crowd was rejuvenated. We returned to our seats to cheer on our heroes, our efforts bolstered by the screams of the nearby student section. Before long, however, Beanie Wells silenced those cheers with an early third quarter touchdown. Suddenly, the student section was not a factor. The energy and excitement seemed limited to just the band section. We continued to cheer, but the football team produced one three-and-out after another. Slowly, the cheers around me subsided and the marching band crowd absorbed into the silence of th
e student section. Each subsequent three-and-out was like a twist of a knife. All of the faces around me showed concern and heartbreak. The icy rain and moldy marching band raincoats only added to our misery. As the fourth quarter wound down, all hope seemed lost. The reality was that the senior football players would indeed finish 0-4 against their bitter rival. I would graduate without ever beating OSU. And as the clock struck zero, Lloyd Carr walked off the field one last time, with a tragic loss in his final home game.Final Score: Ohio State 14 – Michigan 3
The Eve of Battle
Today has been a pretty exciting day of immersing myself in the Michigan tradition. We had a Fanfare Band gig this morning at Schembechler Hall, where the football team practices. It was for a ceremony to recognize the construction of a new football practice facility. Coach Carr was there, looking classy and business-like as usual. Man, do I love him. Any chance to play for him makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside. This calls for a happy face moment…yup…here it is: ☺
That felt good. However, on our way out of the building, we walked by some medical room where we could see Chad Henne lying on a hospital-type bed. He didn’t look so great, either. I really hope he can play tomorrow. Otherwise, you know what’s gonna happen. That’s right…here it is:
:(
Band practice was pretty freezing today, but the show is actually going pretty well. There were a lot of fans that braved the conditions to see us today. All of Ann Arbor seems blissfully high on Michigan spirit. It’s awesome.
After practice, we literally had to run to the Diag for another Fanfare Band gig. This was for the Beat OSU Pep Rally, part of the newly formed “Beat OSU Week.” It was really exciting…Jamie Morris spoke, John Bacon spoke, Jim Brandstatter spoke, and I had a front row seat for all of it. Also, College Gameday is coming to Ann Arbor…and we’re playing for the Big Ten Title and a Rose Bowl berth. Everything seems to be in place for what could be one of the best Saturdays of my life…
So, cross your fingers. It’s time to kick the tires and light the fires. I’m hoping for a glorious day tomorrow…For the Maize and Blue. For the players. For Coach Carr. And for all the dedicated Michigan fans who stood by their team during such a turbulent year.
Go Blue!
That felt good. However, on our way out of the building, we walked by some medical room where we could see Chad Henne lying on a hospital-type bed. He didn’t look so great, either. I really hope he can play tomorrow. Otherwise, you know what’s gonna happen. That’s right…here it is:
:(
Band practice was pretty freezing today, but the show is actually going pretty well. There were a lot of fans that braved the conditions to see us today. All of Ann Arbor seems blissfully high on Michigan spirit. It’s awesome.
After practice, we literally had to run to the Diag for another Fanfare Band gig. This was for the Beat OSU Pep Rally, part of the newly formed “Beat OSU Week.” It was really exciting…Jamie Morris spoke, John Bacon spoke, Jim Brandstatter spoke, and I had a front row seat for all of it. Also, College Gameday is coming to Ann Arbor…and we’re playing for the Big Ten Title and a Rose Bowl berth. Everything seems to be in place for what could be one of the best Saturdays of my life…So, cross your fingers. It’s time to kick the tires and light the fires. I’m hoping for a glorious day tomorrow…For the Maize and Blue. For the players. For Coach Carr. And for all the dedicated Michigan fans who stood by their team during such a turbulent year.
Go Blue!
The Fighting Hearts Ailing
So, just by being a member of the Michigan Marching Band, you are constantly immersed in Michigan football tradition. In fact, any band member would probably agree that the performance of the football team affects how you act in your daily life. It affects your mood, it affects your relationships…it’s almost as if we are living vicariously through the lives of players on the field.
That being said, the emotional roller coaster that is Michigan Athletics is enough to take years off of your life. On top of that, the physical damage on your body induced by the marching techniques we do doesn’t help. I have rarely marched in peak physical health at any point during my four years. As a freshman, I pulled a hip flexor and limped my way through September. My sophomore year, I nearly collapsed during Band Week for reasons I still can’t understand. Last year, I managed to sprain my ankle just before Rank Leader Retreat.
This year, however, has been slightly different. I’ve been pretty healthy from the get-go. Plus, I’m not fat. (Seriously, there are a surprising amount of hefty people in the MMB). Nevertheless, during recent weeks, I feel like my legs and ankles have been turning into, for lack of a better word, “mush”. And it seems like my injuries have worsened as the football players’ have done the same. Hence my initial point. See how I tied that together there? You’re so smart, Paul. And such a pretty face, too!
Anyway, I was lucky to have a weekend off, as the Wisconsin game is away and I’m not travelling. Unfortunately, Chad Henne and Mike Hart took the weekend off, as well. Both have injuries, and weren’t playing. Chad took a few snaps, but clearly couldn’t do much. Hart didn’t play at all. We lost. Final Score: Wisconsin 37, Michigan 21. It was just all…very depressing. I’m hoping that we can all take this next week to heal. I just don’t want to experience another loss to Ohio State, but it seems like all the elements are against us right now. Gotta have faith in my Wolverines! One week to go!
That being said, the emotional roller coaster that is Michigan Athletics is enough to take years off of your life. On top of that, the physical damage on your body induced by the marching techniques we do doesn’t help. I have rarely marched in peak physical health at any point during my four years. As a freshman, I pulled a hip flexor and limped my way through September. My sophomore year, I nearly collapsed during Band Week for reasons I still can’t understand. Last year, I managed to sprain my ankle just before Rank Leader Retreat.
This year, however, has been slightly different. I’ve been pretty healthy from the get-go. Plus, I’m not fat. (Seriously, there are a surprising amount of hefty people in the MMB). Nevertheless, during recent weeks, I feel like my legs and ankles have been turning into, for lack of a better word, “mush”. And it seems like my injuries have worsened as the football players’ have done the same. Hence my initial point. See how I tied that together there? You’re so smart, Paul. And such a pretty face, too!
Anyway, I was lucky to have a weekend off, as the Wisconsin game is away and I’m not travelling. Unfortunately, Chad Henne and Mike Hart took the weekend off, as well. Both have injuries, and weren’t playing. Chad took a few snaps, but clearly couldn’t do much. Hart didn’t play at all. We lost. Final Score: Wisconsin 37, Michigan 21. It was just all…very depressing. I’m hoping that we can all take this next week to heal. I just don’t want to experience another loss to Ohio State, but it seems like all the elements are against us right now. Gotta have faith in my Wolverines! One week to go!
The Calm Before the Storm
Great News! My legs are feeling much less mushy right now…which is excellent, because our show this week is pretty strenuous. We’re doing a Cirque de Soleil show, which involves crazy backwards-follow-the-leader-blindly-imminent-disaster-certain-impending-doom moves. Still, it’s nice to have a challenging show for my last game in Michigan Stadium. What’s NOT nice is having to practice it in such freezing conditions. On top of that…we’re learning Senior Show this week, which involves even more rehearsal in the bitter, bitter cold. On the bright side, I do get to conduct “Hey, Jude!”
I’m excited for Saturday, but I’m also painfully nervous. After putting so much dedication and emotion into being a marching band member and a Michigan fan over the past four years, you can see why I’d like to go out on a high note (punny!). Not only that, but with these senior football players, and with what could possibly be Lloyd Carr’s last Big Ten game, I’m wishing for a win for them, as well.
Honestly, this is all pretty nerve-wracking. A win this weekend will be very fulfilling. A loss…well…I really don’t want to go through that again.
I’m excited for Saturday, but I’m also painfully nervous. After putting so much dedication and emotion into being a marching band member and a Michigan fan over the past four years, you can see why I’d like to go out on a high note (punny!). Not only that, but with these senior football players, and with what could possibly be Lloyd Carr’s last Big Ten game, I’m wishing for a win for them, as well.
Honestly, this is all pretty nerve-wracking. A win this weekend will be very fulfilling. A loss…well…I really don’t want to go through that again.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The Maize and Blue Rising, Part I
Alright, so…the reality is that I suck at updating this blog. Nevertheless, I’m going to try to recap a few weeks at once here. Let’s start with the Illinois game. Sound good? Good.
October 20, 2007. Memorial Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Illinois Fighting Illini
The week leading up to this game was pretty stressful for hardcore Michigan fans. Mike Hart and Chad Henne were both injured? Or were they? Yes? No? Of course we were left guessing. Would they start? Would they play? Moreover, the fact that Illinois is actually kind of good this year just added to my anxiety.
On top of ALL of this, I couldn’t even watch the game. The Michigan Marching Band was performing at Band-o-Rama in Hill Auditorium, which conflicted with the football game time. Just before our performance started, marching band members were exploring the Modern Languages Building, looking for televisions with decent reception so we could get a glimpse of our beloved Wolverines. Naturally, we finally found one working TV, saw Mike Hart out of uniform on the sidelines, and then immediately had to leave for our performance.
Being members of the alto saxophone section, the consensus most prominent and most important musical section in the band, we were placed on…the very back of the stage. Some of us were actually stuck behind a pillar. And, I think Alan might have been standing underneath a tuba player. After 26,000 sets of entries, the brass players all backed up about a foot onstage, effectively smashing us into the back wall.
No matter. My lovely co-rank leader Nicole and I were fortunate to be on the end next to Carl Grapentine, the announcer and “voice” of the Michigan Marching Band. On a side note: I kind of wish Carl were the voice of my entire life. Like…a personal narrator. You know…like Emma Thompson in “Stranger than Fiction.” Except…without the crappy storyline, and bad acting, and painfully uncreative irony. Seriously, now I’m kind of angry. Emma Thompson is such a good actress, and I could have written that screenplay while sitting on the toilet and balancing a bar of soap on my forehead and doing ab crunches with ankle weights on. Not that I ever do things like that in the bathroom……………I don’t! I swear! Don’t look at me that way…COME BACK, CARL GRAPENTINE! I miss your voice!!!! I’m sorry!!!!!
Wow, how did I get so off-topic there? Yeah, so….Carl would go backstage during the songs and check out the football game, then come back and give Nicole and me updates. Unfortunately, these updates were, “It doesn’t look good guys.” “Hart’s out. Henne’s hurt. Mario Manningham’s hurt. We’re losing. We look pretty bad right now.”
Words cannot express how utterly stressful this concert was while knowing this information. Here we were, just toot-toot-tooting our horns while there was an f-ing BATTLE going on. Needless to say, the moment the concert ended, we literally sprinted to my apartment, in full uniform, saxophones-in-hand and arms FLAILING in the air.
We were able to see the whole fourth quarter, during which Chad Henne led a furious comeback while injured, and Adrian Arrington accidentally executed a RIDICULOUS trick play where he ran right on a reverse and tossed a touchdown pass to Mario Manningham to give us the lead. Final Score: Michigan 27, Illinois 17. Amazing Game.
October 20, 2007. Memorial Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Illinois Fighting Illini
The week leading up to this game was pretty stressful for hardcore Michigan fans. Mike Hart and Chad Henne were both injured? Or were they? Yes? No? Of course we were left guessing. Would they start? Would they play? Moreover, the fact that Illinois is actually kind of good this year just added to my anxiety.
On top of ALL of this, I couldn’t even watch the game. The Michigan Marching Band was performing at Band-o-Rama in Hill Auditorium, which conflicted with the football game time. Just before our performance started, marching band members were exploring the Modern Languages Building, looking for televisions with decent reception so we could get a glimpse of our beloved Wolverines. Naturally, we finally found one working TV, saw Mike Hart out of uniform on the sidelines, and then immediately had to leave for our performance.
Being members of the alto saxophone section, the consensus most prominent and most important musical section in the band, we were placed on…the very back of the stage. Some of us were actually stuck behind a pillar. And, I think Alan might have been standing underneath a tuba player. After 26,000 sets of entries, the brass players all backed up about a foot onstage, effectively smashing us into the back wall.
No matter. My lovely co-rank leader Nicole and I were fortunate to be on the end next to Carl Grapentine, the announcer and “voice” of the Michigan Marching Band. On a side note: I kind of wish Carl were the voice of my entire life. Like…a personal narrator. You know…like Emma Thompson in “Stranger than Fiction.” Except…without the crappy storyline, and bad acting, and painfully uncreative irony. Seriously, now I’m kind of angry. Emma Thompson is such a good actress, and I could have written that screenplay while sitting on the toilet and balancing a bar of soap on my forehead and doing ab crunches with ankle weights on. Not that I ever do things like that in the bathroom……………I don’t! I swear! Don’t look at me that way…COME BACK, CARL GRAPENTINE! I miss your voice!!!! I’m sorry!!!!!
Wow, how did I get so off-topic there? Yeah, so….Carl would go backstage during the songs and check out the football game, then come back and give Nicole and me updates. Unfortunately, these updates were, “It doesn’t look good guys.” “Hart’s out. Henne’s hurt. Mario Manningham’s hurt. We’re losing. We look pretty bad right now.”
Words cannot express how utterly stressful this concert was while knowing this information. Here we were, just toot-toot-tooting our horns while there was an f-ing BATTLE going on. Needless to say, the moment the concert ended, we literally sprinted to my apartment, in full uniform, saxophones-in-hand and arms FLAILING in the air.
We were able to see the whole fourth quarter, during which Chad Henne led a furious comeback while injured, and Adrian Arrington accidentally executed a RIDICULOUS trick play where he ran right on a reverse and tossed a touchdown pass to Mario Manningham to give us the lead. Final Score: Michigan 27, Illinois 17. Amazing Game.
The Maize and Blue Rising, Part Deux
November 3, 2007. Spartan Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Michigan State Spartans
Despite Henne’s gutsy game, it was clear that he was still beat up. Two weeks later, we traveled to East Lansing for the Michigan State game. Chad Henne and Mike Hart were both playing, and seemed okay, but still not completely healthy. The game reflected this, and MSU had a 10-point lead midway through the fourth quarter. On top of that, Henne aggravated his injury, forcing Ryan Mallett to come in. Approximately 3 seconds after Ryan Mallett had stepped onto the field, he had already fumbled the ball, which Mike Hart subsequently snatched up and took for a first down. Way to keep me excited/give me a heart-attack, Ryan Mallett.
Obviously, Henne had to come back in the game because there was no way Mallett could hold onto the football, let alone lead a comeback. In just over 6 minutes, Henne lofted a 14-yard touchdown pass to Greg Mathews, and a spectacular 31-yarder to Mario Manningham. The once-booming Spartan crowd quickly reverted to their usual emotions of worthlessness and self-pity. Final Score: Michigan 28, Michigan State 24.
I must say, it must be extremely demoralizing to be a Michigan State fan. Here’s my four-year recap: My freshman year, we were down by 17 with six minutes left, and still won in three overtimes. My sophomore year, we won after one overtime. My junior year, we blew them out. Then this. Ha Ha Sparty. Sucks to be you.
Then, as we were marching off the field, one of the Michigan State assistant coaches tried to walk through our ranks. Just to be clear, this is a big No-No. Don’t ever expect to walk through the band without being pelted with drumsticks, then tripped and trounced on, then left for dead. We simply told the coach he couldn’t walk through. Infuriated, he retorted by screaming at the whole band, “YOU PEOPLE ARE FUCKING CLASSLESS! THIS IS SOME CLASSLESS BULLSHIT!” His shouting echoed through the emptied stadium, and he stood there red-faced, screaming profanities. Interestingly, he was carrying a small child on his shoulders during this whole episode. I guess cussing out 300 marching band members in front of a young, innocent child is considered classy in East Lansing. Oh you Michiganders, you impress me more every day!
Now, I must say, this football season has been anything BUT boring. After these thrilling wins, the App State and Oregon fiascos seem so far away. Kudos to Lloyd Carr and these student-athletes who came back from a disastrous start to salvage the season. After eight consecutive wins, we’re back on top of the Big Ten Standings, and the final game against Ohio State will be for a BCS berth. In such an emotional year, this team has played tough, and the true fans have stood by them. After falling early, the Maize and Blue are rising, and this team can still make Michigan history when all is said and done.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Michigan State Spartans
Despite Henne’s gutsy game, it was clear that he was still beat up. Two weeks later, we traveled to East Lansing for the Michigan State game. Chad Henne and Mike Hart were both playing, and seemed okay, but still not completely healthy. The game reflected this, and MSU had a 10-point lead midway through the fourth quarter. On top of that, Henne aggravated his injury, forcing Ryan Mallett to come in. Approximately 3 seconds after Ryan Mallett had stepped onto the field, he had already fumbled the ball, which Mike Hart subsequently snatched up and took for a first down. Way to keep me excited/give me a heart-attack, Ryan Mallett.
Obviously, Henne had to come back in the game because there was no way Mallett could hold onto the football, let alone lead a comeback. In just over 6 minutes, Henne lofted a 14-yard touchdown pass to Greg Mathews, and a spectacular 31-yarder to Mario Manningham. The once-booming Spartan crowd quickly reverted to their usual emotions of worthlessness and self-pity. Final Score: Michigan 28, Michigan State 24.
I must say, it must be extremely demoralizing to be a Michigan State fan. Here’s my four-year recap: My freshman year, we were down by 17 with six minutes left, and still won in three overtimes. My sophomore year, we won after one overtime. My junior year, we blew them out. Then this. Ha Ha Sparty. Sucks to be you.
Then, as we were marching off the field, one of the Michigan State assistant coaches tried to walk through our ranks. Just to be clear, this is a big No-No. Don’t ever expect to walk through the band without being pelted with drumsticks, then tripped and trounced on, then left for dead. We simply told the coach he couldn’t walk through. Infuriated, he retorted by screaming at the whole band, “YOU PEOPLE ARE FUCKING CLASSLESS! THIS IS SOME CLASSLESS BULLSHIT!” His shouting echoed through the emptied stadium, and he stood there red-faced, screaming profanities. Interestingly, he was carrying a small child on his shoulders during this whole episode. I guess cussing out 300 marching band members in front of a young, innocent child is considered classy in East Lansing. Oh you Michiganders, you impress me more every day!
Now, I must say, this football season has been anything BUT boring. After these thrilling wins, the App State and Oregon fiascos seem so far away. Kudos to Lloyd Carr and these student-athletes who came back from a disastrous start to salvage the season. After eight consecutive wins, we’re back on top of the Big Ten Standings, and the final game against Ohio State will be for a BCS berth. In such an emotional year, this team has played tough, and the true fans have stood by them. After falling early, the Maize and Blue are rising, and this team can still make Michigan history when all is said and done.
The Progression
October 13th, 2007. Michigan Stadium
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Purdue Boilermakers
Following a four game winning streak, it seemed like Michigan Football was progressing back in the right direction. With so many home games, and my classes, and everything else, I started to feel physically and emotionally drained. Fortunately for me, Fall Break was ahead. All that stood in the way was a talented Purdue team.
The Michigan offense started out aggressively. After just a few minutes, Henne had already completed one touchdown to Mario Manningham. Purdue responded and tied it up midway through the first quarter. However, what followed was some of the most efficient offensive play I’ve seen since being a student at Michigan. After two Mike Hart touchdowns, two Carlos Brown touchdowns, and another Manningham receiving touchdown, the scoreboard read Michigan 48 – Purdue 7. Purdue would score in garbage time, but the end of the game still left me satisfied. Final Score: Michigan 48 – Purdue 21.
At this point, it was clear that a break from football was needed. And what could better fill that void than ALTO PROG!
What is Alto Prog, you ask? Well, if my parents are reading this blog, this is where you stop and move on to the next entry. Otherwise, just replace every mention of an alcoholic beverage with a type of flower, or fluffy animal, or something like that. Yup. Completely innocent here.
Anyway…Alto Prog. This is where all of the members of the Alto Saxophone section come together for an evening and progress from house to house, enjoying a different drink (tulip? bunny rabbit?) at each stop. This year’s theme was….well….‘me’. “Paul Prog” began with a Case Race symbolizing “Paul’s Conception”, where we split into three teams and drank three cases of beer as fast as possible. The winning group would achieve my conception! Because isn’t that the most difficult race of your existence anyway?
Next stop: Paul’s’ Bar Mitzvah. Here, we had a candle lighting ceremony where we recognized each member of the section. They all joined me to light their candles, and then Alan played Hava Nagila on his saxophone while the alto masses lifted me into the air on a chair. It was sublime.
Then came the Mojitos. This was meant to represent my first halftime show, which was the Latin Show during my freshman year. All in all, this was one of the best drinks of the night.
Then came my stop. Paul’s First Love: Tequila Shots. I won’t give a background story here, other than the fact that I am completely innocent, and I spend all of my free time petting animals or feeding the homeless. Anyway, while everyone enjoyed their shots, complete with salt and lime, I was frantically cooking made-to-order crepes in my kitchen. I made about 50 crepes in 35 minutes. Each person had their choice of ingredients, including nutella, bananas, strawberries, whip cream, and coconut. Best drunk food EVER.
Up next was rum and apple cider. Yes, this signified my first real Fall in Ann Arbor. And Pat and Nicole did an excellent job mixing these drinks (arranging flowers).
Craig’s stop was “Paul Goes to the Beach.” They asked me to parade around with my shirt off here, but I declined. Instead, I happily enjoyed the sex on the beach drinks.
Finally, our last stop was “Paul’s First Kiss.” We each enjoyed peppermint patties, which consisted of drinking peppermint schnapps and washing it down with chocolate syrup. This was definitely the messiest stop, and we all probably pet the bunnies a little more than we should have.
Anyway, the evening ended at a huge house party, and the altos seemed satisfied with the evening. Yes, this was definitely the best Alto Prog yet, and it’ll be a tough one to beat. Fall Break is ahead, but after that, it’s back to work. This season is still just beginning.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Purdue Boilermakers
Following a four game winning streak, it seemed like Michigan Football was progressing back in the right direction. With so many home games, and my classes, and everything else, I started to feel physically and emotionally drained. Fortunately for me, Fall Break was ahead. All that stood in the way was a talented Purdue team.
The Michigan offense started out aggressively. After just a few minutes, Henne had already completed one touchdown to Mario Manningham. Purdue responded and tied it up midway through the first quarter. However, what followed was some of the most efficient offensive play I’ve seen since being a student at Michigan. After two Mike Hart touchdowns, two Carlos Brown touchdowns, and another Manningham receiving touchdown, the scoreboard read Michigan 48 – Purdue 7. Purdue would score in garbage time, but the end of the game still left me satisfied. Final Score: Michigan 48 – Purdue 21.
At this point, it was clear that a break from football was needed. And what could better fill that void than ALTO PROG!
What is Alto Prog, you ask? Well, if my parents are reading this blog, this is where you stop and move on to the next entry. Otherwise, just replace every mention of an alcoholic beverage with a type of flower, or fluffy animal, or something like that. Yup. Completely innocent here.
Anyway…Alto Prog. This is where all of the members of the Alto Saxophone section come together for an evening and progress from house to house, enjoying a different drink (tulip? bunny rabbit?) at each stop. This year’s theme was….well….‘me’. “Paul Prog” began with a Case Race symbolizing “Paul’s Conception”, where we split into three teams and drank three cases of beer as fast as possible. The winning group would achieve my conception! Because isn’t that the most difficult race of your existence anyway?
Next stop: Paul’s’ Bar Mitzvah. Here, we had a candle lighting ceremony where we recognized each member of the section. They all joined me to light their candles, and then Alan played Hava Nagila on his saxophone while the alto masses lifted me into the air on a chair. It was sublime.
Then came the Mojitos. This was meant to represent my first halftime show, which was the Latin Show during my freshman year. All in all, this was one of the best drinks of the night.
Then came my stop. Paul’s First Love: Tequila Shots. I won’t give a background story here, other than the fact that I am completely innocent, and I spend all of my free time petting animals or feeding the homeless. Anyway, while everyone enjoyed their shots, complete with salt and lime, I was frantically cooking made-to-order crepes in my kitchen. I made about 50 crepes in 35 minutes. Each person had their choice of ingredients, including nutella, bananas, strawberries, whip cream, and coconut. Best drunk food EVER.
Up next was rum and apple cider. Yes, this signified my first real Fall in Ann Arbor. And Pat and Nicole did an excellent job mixing these drinks (arranging flowers).
Craig’s stop was “Paul Goes to the Beach.” They asked me to parade around with my shirt off here, but I declined. Instead, I happily enjoyed the sex on the beach drinks.
Finally, our last stop was “Paul’s First Kiss.” We each enjoyed peppermint patties, which consisted of drinking peppermint schnapps and washing it down with chocolate syrup. This was definitely the messiest stop, and we all probably pet the bunnies a little more than we should have.
Anyway, the evening ended at a huge house party, and the altos seemed satisfied with the evening. Yes, this was definitely the best Alto Prog yet, and it’ll be a tough one to beat. Fall Break is ahead, but after that, it’s back to work. This season is still just beginning.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
The Irish, Creamed.
September 15th, 2007. Michigan Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Notre Dame Fighting Irish
In an unexpected turn of events, both these teams entered the matchup with 0-2 records. On top of that, “Fire Lloyd” shirts began selling all over campus. I found this immensely frustrating. Not only were fans criticizing their beloved coach, but they seemed to lose all hope for the season. So what if they fired Carr? What would that solve? Yeah, let’s fire our coach in the middle of the season. Then maybe we’ll win some games. Idoits.
Fortunately for me, I am surrounded by some of the best fans on campus in the Michigan Marching Band. All week long, a mentality of perfection surged through the band. We knew that we would only expect the best from ourselves this week, and we hoped to spread that attitude to Wolverines in such dire need of guidance and inspiration.
At Friday’s Pep Rally, the Michigan Marching Band ignited the atmosphere with our energy. Jamie Morris eloquently and openly SCOLDED Michigan fans for their abysmal behavior. Lloyd Carr was focused on the task at hand. Mike Hart GUARENTEED a victory over our rivals. And Russell Crowe even came to the game to inspire the football team to win.
This week’s halftime show was music from “Guitar Hero.” We opened with Iron Man, intimidating all of Michigan Stadium with a wall of sound. At the climax of the show, we headed to the student section and rocked out to Fire Bird. The Stadium was rocking. The football team was rolling. And Notre Dame was reeling. With Chad Henne injured and out, Mike Hart carried his team to victory, and a dominant 38-0 win over the Irish gave us a glimmer of hope for the future.
The Road Test
September 23rd, 2007. Ryan Field.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Northwestern Wildcats
So, I wanted to go to this game more than anything. Every year, the students in the MMB travel as fans to one away game, and this was it. I wanted to be in attendance for Michigan’s first road test of the season. Unfortunately, I had a small test of my own.
Yes, while my friends were traveling to Chicago for some fun, I was a nervous wreck for my LSAT. Not only that, but I was being held hostage by my brother and his girlfriend, Jovauna. Let me explain:
So my LSAT was at Washtenaw Community College at 8:00 AM on Saturday morning. Since all my friends were in Chicago, I didn’t really have anyone to drive me there. I asked my brother to give me a ride, but he wasn’t fond of the idea of driving to my apartment at 7 AM to pick me up. Alas, my only choice was to stay with them the night before and wake their lazy asses up to take me in the morning. So that’s what I did.
The test itself started out rough. The other people in the room kept asking stupid questions, and I was afraid that their stupidity was rubbing off on me. I felt unfocused at the start, but slowly settled in. I felt fine when it was over, but all I wanted to do was get to a television and watch the game.
Because of the new Big Ten Network, Comcast was not covering this game on any of its channels. I had to go to Damon’s with my brother and Jovauna and stand at a bar to watch. Furthermore, it seemed like Michigan was going through the same struggles during their road test that I had during my test. They seemed unfocused and intimidated at first, as Northwestern took the lead during the first half. But slowly, Chad Henne took charge, and refocused his team. Mike Hart carried the offense, and Henne hit his receivers when necessary. The defense had a terrific fourth quarter, and Michigan escaped Evanston victorious. Michigan 28 – Northwestern 16.
At this point in the season, I’ve observed something very different about this football team. These seniors seem to be playing very tough, mentally…Tougher than I have ever seen them play. Mike Hart is literally carrying the team on his back, while Chad Henne is pushing through his injury to make plays. Can they continue the trend and salvage a season that started out so horribly, horribly wrong?
The Aftershock
September 8th, 2007. Michigan Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Oregon Ducks
Bounceback Game. After last week’s surprising loss to ASU, Michigan was the laughingstock of the nation. You could tell that people on campus felt embarrassed and shocked. Still, the general consensus was that Michigan would easily bounce back and annihilate an inferior Oregon squad. As Saturday approached, shock turned to optimism. Everyone knew Appalachian State was an aberration. Maybe it was the world’s way of paying us back for making so much fun of their recruitment commercial. Yes, Michigan fans seemed confident again. Michigan Football would return to glory, and all would be right with the world.
And then Dennis Dixon happened.
Oregon’s quarterback produced three touchdowns before halftime. Not only that, but with Oregon up 32-7 in the second quarter, Michigan fans turned on their heroes. Students began cheering “RYAN-MALLET” with each incomplete pass from Henne. Even after Chad injured his knee, and pushed through the pain for an entire series, Michigan fans tormented their quarterback. All in all, this was not a good day for Wolverine Nation. The team looked slow. The fans were abysmal. And a 0-2 start has students calling for Lloyd Carr’s head.
Final Score: Oregon 39 – Michigan 7
So now shock has turned to frustration. We are experiencing uncharted territory. This will divide the men from the boys. Is it too late to salvage the season? I think not.
Friday, September 7, 2007
The Shock
September 1st, 2007. Opening Game. Michigan Stadium.
The University of Michigan Wolverines versus the Appalachian State University Mountaineers.
Standing in my seat with the rest of the Michigan Marching Band in Michigan Stadium, I struggled to comprehend exactly what was happening in front of my eyes. Appalachian State was leading Michigan 31-26 at the beginning of the fourth quarter during the opening game of the 2007 season. That’s right…Division I-AA Appalachian State was winning. That’s like a minor league team outplaying a major leaguer.
The 110,000 fans in the Big House all experienced a collective state of shock. How was Michigan going to escape this mess? Who would be the hero? I thought the answer was clear when Mike Hart, in a phenomenal effort, single-handedly willed a spectacular 54-yard touchdown run into the end zone with 4:36 left in the game, putting Michigan up 32-31.
Still, Appalachian State roared back with a 24-yard field goal with 26 seconds left to lead 34-32. Twenty-Six seconds left. Who would be the hero for Michigan? Chad Henne launched a ballsy 46-yard pass to Mario Manningham, putting Michigan back into field goal range with time left for one play. All that stood in the way of an extraordinary win for Michigan was a 37-yard field goal by kicker Jason Gingell as time expired. Crossing my fingers and holding hands with my fellow section members, I watched the final play unfold. The ball was snapped. My heart was racing. 110,000 people looked on as Gingell’s foot hit the pigskin, and…
Flashback: Three Days Earlier. Just a few weeks after returning to the U.S., I was already deeply immersed in the world of marching band. As a rank leader candidate, my “Band Week” was particularly long and strenuous, but certainly rewarding. My fellow rank leader candidates and I were delighted to see such improvement among the freshmen, and were expecting another awesome year. After practice one day, Alan and I ordered some Chinese food complete with tasty fortune cookies! I cracked mine open, and the fortune read:
“Your road to glory will be rocky, but fulfilling.”
So, of course, at first glance, I basically read it as “your road to glory will be blah blah trite cliché blah blah blah.” Then I thought about the football season ahead, and all the work I was putting into the Michigan Marching Band, and all the expectations for a championship. The road to glory will be rocky? Uh…not too rocky, I hope. Whatever…fortune cookies don’t mean much anyway.
Back to the game. Jason Gingell’s foot hit the ball. I could barely keep my eyes open. My fellow band members and I were petrified. Then it happened. Blocked. My heart immediately sank. The 110,000 fans that had been so vocal a few seconds earlier were now silent. In one of the biggest upsets in college football history, the hot, Hot, HOT Appalachian State Mountaineers did the unexpected.
Final Score: ASU 34, Michigan 32.
“Shock” is still the best word to describe my reaction. However, other Michigan fans embraced emotions of anger and frustration. It seemed as if within seconds, people were already calling for Coach Lloyd Carr’s head. Who should be blamed for this disaster?
So what happens now? How do we pick up the pieces? Do we continue to play the blame game, or do we rise back up and see what we’re made of? Many thought this would be the year Michigan would finally achieve greatness and make it to the National Championship Game. Now that’s impossible, but that doesn’t mean the road to glory is no longer traversable. Forget who should be blamed. Forget the anger. Forget the frustration. While the entire world writes Michigan off, there’s only one thing the Maize and Blue can do. Get back up. Show the world how good Michigan is. Be so good…so good that you can’t possibly be ignored.
Maybe Coach Taylor expressed this situation the best in NBC’s overly romanticized football show, Friday Night Lights:
“We will all, at some point in our lives, fall. We will all fall. We must keep this in our hearts. That what we have is special. That it can be taken from us. And when it is taken from us, we will be tested. We will be tested to our very souls.”
And now Michigan will be tested. Ladies and Gentlemen, how can you not wonder how this story will unfold?
Friday, June 22, 2007
The Paycheck
So, the University of Michigan gave me a rash. No joke. Allow me to explain:
For some reason, my last paycheck from my school job didn’t go through and I didn’t get paid for my final two weeks. Unfortunately, by payday, I was already home in California, my rent check was already at the landlord’s in Ann Arbor, and the nearest TCF bank was 2000 miles away, so I couldn’t easily make a deposit. When I contacted the payroll people about it, they said it “errored out,” and they would fix it. After nothing happened, I called them again, and they said it “errored out” again because of some financial aid issue. Ultimately, I got paid 3 hours after my rent check was cashed, earning me a hefty $33 fee!
Meanwhile, I was at home preparing to interview for some summer jobs. My dad took my nice clothes to the dry-cleaners, and I only had one chance to go pick them up before my interview. Alas, my parents didn’t leave me any money to pay for it, and I didn’t have any money in my bank accounts (thanks to Michigan Payroll). Bottom line is, I couldn’t get my dry-cleaning. For my interview, I had to borrow one of my dad’s shirts, which he picked up a few days before from the other, “organic” dry cleaner store since the normal dry cleaners had only just reopened following their Store-On-Fire-Clothes-Went-Up-In-Flames debacle from a few months ago. Whatev.
Apparently, the “organic” dry-cleaned clothes had some nasty reaction with my skin, and I got a rash across my arms and shoulders. Sucks.
So because I didn’t get paid, my rent check bounced…And I was charged a $33 fee. And I couldn’t afford dry-cleaning. And I didn’t have any money to buy my Ohio State Football Tickets from the band before they ran out. And I have a rash.
Thanks, Michigan Payroll. You Rock.
For some reason, my last paycheck from my school job didn’t go through and I didn’t get paid for my final two weeks. Unfortunately, by payday, I was already home in California, my rent check was already at the landlord’s in Ann Arbor, and the nearest TCF bank was 2000 miles away, so I couldn’t easily make a deposit. When I contacted the payroll people about it, they said it “errored out,” and they would fix it. After nothing happened, I called them again, and they said it “errored out” again because of some financial aid issue. Ultimately, I got paid 3 hours after my rent check was cashed, earning me a hefty $33 fee!
Meanwhile, I was at home preparing to interview for some summer jobs. My dad took my nice clothes to the dry-cleaners, and I only had one chance to go pick them up before my interview. Alas, my parents didn’t leave me any money to pay for it, and I didn’t have any money in my bank accounts (thanks to Michigan Payroll). Bottom line is, I couldn’t get my dry-cleaning. For my interview, I had to borrow one of my dad’s shirts, which he picked up a few days before from the other, “organic” dry cleaner store since the normal dry cleaners had only just reopened following their Store-On-Fire-Clothes-Went-Up-In-Flames debacle from a few months ago. Whatev.
Apparently, the “organic” dry-cleaned clothes had some nasty reaction with my skin, and I got a rash across my arms and shoulders. Sucks.
So because I didn’t get paid, my rent check bounced…And I was charged a $33 fee. And I couldn’t afford dry-cleaning. And I didn’t have any money to buy my Ohio State Football Tickets from the band before they ran out. And I have a rash.
Thanks, Michigan Payroll. You Rock.
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