Last night, I was given the incredible honor of playing "The 5th Bass" with my school's drumline.
Now, for the back story....
I always wanted to be a percussionist in the marching band. My dad said, "Drums are for boys!" and refused to allow me to play. My entire childhood was spent at the high school football field every Friday night. I watched my aunt play flute, my cousin play the tenor drums, my sister play flute/piccolo and my baby sister twirl flags with the colorguard. And there I sat. Wishing. Hoping. Longing to play percussion and march with the band. I had to settle for sitting next to the band at every game, working in the concession stand at the game or chaperoning the band on trips after I graduated from college. It was the best I could offer.
This is my fourth year at the Fletcher High and my third band director in four years. Every one of these guys has honored me by allowing me to march in a parade, clang a cymbal, shake a tambourine and play The 5th Bass.
To be honest, I did not know what that meant, but I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream. The fellow that was on the drum graciously stepped aside so I could play his part. The 5th Bass is the largest drum they had on the line. I had the time of my life and a few minutes of glory as part of an actual drumline.
I missed out on the parade last year because of a broken toe. They asked if I would march again this year. My answer is and always will be a resounding "YES!!!"
Until next time....