The Show

Post date: Oct 1, 2019 1:49:45 PM

I think of all the remembrances our classmates hold dear, Saturday in EL has to rank very high. That would include traffic, tailgating, football, and the band.

My personal connection began when my family moved to EL in 1957:

In case you wondered, that's my brother Stan about to hike it to moi. I have my mother's handwriting on the back of the photo to prove it. Taken at the barracks, between the train tracks and what was to become Trowbridge.

Fast-forward to high school, and I was actually playing football, and also marching in the band. A choice had to be made between the two when I made varsity, because, among other things, the wardrobe issues would have been huge doing both on Friday night showtimes.

Fatefully, I picked football, which I've always regretted. And then football took itself away from me at kickoff, the last game, junior year, with what I learned 30 years later was a torn ACL. So at that point, I was out of both football and music.

Luckily, I still had both football and music on the banks of the Red Cedar, and took advantage of it. Sneaking into games and sitting in the upper corners, then selling programs at games thanks to Jimmy Bowers, who always had a connection to make some pocket change. Later, tailgating with my dear parents, parking in the library lot. No charge. When the rent went up there, my dad moved us to the botanical gardens lot (over by the Student Services building) where it was still free.

Eventually, as the years went by, I enjoyed their tickets, which I acquired when they could no longer go.

Later still, our son James came along, and as he grew, Linda grew less fond of windswept Spartan Stadium, and James got the nod. This was a pivotal shift.

As he and I now parked off-campus (it was free, the same reason my dad moved from one parking lot to another...talk about a legacy), we'd walk from Studio House apartments (Patty Hertel lived there for a spell while at MSU) where Michigan and Grand River converge, then through the band practice field by Cowles House and the Music Building. James loved to climb the trees there, which he had discovered in his Suzuki violin days, and which he preferred to drawing the bow. So he was partial to that field.

And that morphed into a ritual that we practiced countless times. Instead of sprinting to the stadium to play catch with a football on the stadium ramps (which was the initial draw for him), we'd stop and smell the roses... the audio version.

The band.

Which (get to the point, man!) led to a fascination with the band. And then the drumline. And then the tenors. Quints.

We would literally walk with the drumline as the band marched to Sparty, then to the stadium. The streets were always lined with fans. Noise. Hoopla. And the beat.

Such a rush!!!!

So, when James the elder (a hockey player by then) was asked to be in the junior high band, he "asked" to be a percussionist. And then, high school hit, and he was the only freshman to make drumline. On the tenors, of course.

And that led to the practice tenor set, and then the drum kit, in the basement, and (don't add up the costs for mom and dad, please) that, music, led him out of his dark days, eventually to a degree in Audio Arts and Acoustics.

So when I say I love Saturdays, I mean it. And when I say I love the game, and when I say I love the band... I mean it.

Enjoy.