I miss it. I'm not going to lie, I miss marching band terribly. For the past six years I have been working with a marching band here in the area--writing their shows, designing their drill, and teaching the kids the show. When I changed jobs, I had to step away from my position with the band (and for those in the know, several other positions as well). Well, I am seriously missing my creative outlet.
Sure, the time with the band was hard work and it consumed a lot of time. Sure, the band took me away from my family. Sure, it absolutely wore me out. But I love it. I love every frustrating moment--the long days, the rehearsals, the scream of "again", the lie that is "last time", the music, the magic, the moment. I love the feeling of the show coming together and the roar of the crowd.
I know that I am living vicariously through the kids, but lets face it, for a guy who can't draw/paint/color worth a flip, I need some kind of creative outlet. The wife says I should write more, and I do enjoy writing, but it does not scratch the same itch as music.
I am still in mourning for the loss of my extra curricular activities--soccer, ACE, band. I know I owe it to my family to be a good Husband/Father, but I need to be a whole person as well. I'll keep looking.
Until next time....
M
PS 6 days of walking...woot to me.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Place Nose (a) on Grindstone (b)...hold.
So back to work and the daunting task of exam creation, exam okaying, and the bi-annual hunt for scantrons begins. I could wax poetic on the various and assundry ways that I am so not ready to be back at school...but in truth, I am happy to be here. Not that home was bad or anything, spending time with Wyatt is always exciting (did you know that you can use raisins to stick things to the wall? It takes 7 raisins to hold up a matchbox car.) and educational, but I just needed to get back to my routine.
There is something familiar, something comfortable about a routine that makes me happy. Within the routine, I understand how things function, understand the rules and laws that must be obeyed and sometimes broken, and I know where I fit in. Break sends my world into a bit of a tizzy--how else do you explain me running over the video camera with the car? (True story, way too sad to write about.)
On a slightly different note, I am in the process of trying to better myself. No, that's not right. I am trying to save my life. See, for those of you out of the know, I am fat. (Not overweight, not cuddly, call a spade a spade, I am fat.) The process, the journey of a thousand steps, the remaking of a star...it all began today. Today I set my alarm clock back 30 minutes. I arrived at school 30 minutes earlier. I walked for 30 minutes. I ate oatmeal for breakfast. I will not consume soda today. As a wise man said in a movie filmed in my backyard, "Baby steps."
Thanks, Bob.
Until Next time....
M
There is something familiar, something comfortable about a routine that makes me happy. Within the routine, I understand how things function, understand the rules and laws that must be obeyed and sometimes broken, and I know where I fit in. Break sends my world into a bit of a tizzy--how else do you explain me running over the video camera with the car? (True story, way too sad to write about.)
On a slightly different note, I am in the process of trying to better myself. No, that's not right. I am trying to save my life. See, for those of you out of the know, I am fat. (Not overweight, not cuddly, call a spade a spade, I am fat.) The process, the journey of a thousand steps, the remaking of a star...it all began today. Today I set my alarm clock back 30 minutes. I arrived at school 30 minutes earlier. I walked for 30 minutes. I ate oatmeal for breakfast. I will not consume soda today. As a wise man said in a movie filmed in my backyard, "Baby steps."
Thanks, Bob.
Until Next time....
M
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