The Boys in the Band

I was lucky enough to find a couple of Tylenol PM tablets last night and it helped me fall asleep. Being sick with flu symptoms is not fun, especially when you're trying to get rest. My nose was so stuffed up that I had to sleep with my bass clarinet mouthpiece in my mouth so I wouldn't suffocate. I've always believed that places and things are infused with a sort of energy that connects a person to a specific time in his or her life. When I opened up my bass clarinet case, I was instantly transported to my band geek days in high school.

I never understood how people can be so into something that it takes over every aspect of life. The band geeks in my high school ate, slept, and breathed music while I chose to nibble, doze, and sniff it. I preferred it that way. I had more fun laughing at the flute players who rocked back and forth with the music as they closed their eyes and 'felt the energy flow through their bodies.' That was my band director's big thing: "Feel the energy flowing through your body!"

The only energy I wanted to flow through me was the energy of the young men in other bands. Marching band has one of the highest percentages of closeted homosexual males, with football coming in a close second. It was a veritable smorgas board of hot gay nerds who were ready to explode with built-up sexual energy. See? Energy. Schools from across the state would compete in band reviews and every weekend was a road trip to a different school. It was kickass!

During competitions, we'd scope out the cute boys and pursue the ones with the highest OSV (obvious swish value) so we could make out in one of the many hiding places in the schools where competitions were held. Afterwards, all the gay boys in the band (there were only 4 of us) would get together to tell each other about our conquests. It was kind of like Sex and the City, but with more acne medication. I would have been the Carrie because I had a bling necklace with my name on it.

A flash of amusing, coming-of-age memories were triggered by the touch and feel of my old instrument. I wonder why I don't get memory flashes when I touch my 'fleshy' instrument...?