At the Rose Parade
I’m attending the UCLA– Cal football game tomorrow and I’m excited about the prospects–because I get to see the band again, live.
I haven’t attended a football game in probably 15 years–back in the day when we were trying to help our oldest son figure out what college he wanted to attend. We all went to the UCLA-Stanford football game and wore matching UCLA hats.
Guess which team we rooted for?
You’re right!
The UCLA Marching band!
The next year, we attended the game and saw our son in uniform.
The BAND uniform!
Okay, I’m partial. I spent my years at UCLA marching in the clarinet section, the wherever-someone-is-needed section. and the alto saxophone section the final year.
It was a lot of fun.
It was probably the only social life I had in college–graduating in three years meant I took a lot of English classes (12 the final year. I was 1000 pages behind on the reading the first day of EVERY quarter my senior year), and since I also was a reporter and then an editor of the UCLA Daily Bruin, every moment was packed with activity.
Fun only came marching on the field or playing in the stands at UCLA basketball games (we won the national championship my first year in college; which was also John Wooden‘s final year as a coach).
But this is about the fun of being in the UCLA band. Click to Tweet
In a school as large as UCLA, it’s important for students to find a niche of friends. The student population when I attended was 33,000. Without the band and the Daily Bruin, I would have been lost and, frankly, lonely.
With my band mates, I had some 200 acquaintances almost immediately. I spent Thursday and Friday afternoons with them, all day on Saturdays, cheered with them at our winning team and took numerous memorable band trips.
Then there was the music.
By college, musicians are experienced.
It always felt like turning on a switch when the band director, Kelly James during my tenure, would raise his baton and bring it down. The solid gold sound was like a wall–particularly with the brass players. Click to Tweet
(My son played trumpet)
Energy.
Excitement.
Explosion.
And, frankly, great musicians. Many went on to be professionals. My college roommate has taught music in Venice, California her entire adult life to junior high students.
(Note to others: among my friends, the second most common job for musicians was computer programmers–something about music and math going hand in hand in the brain . . . )
I have plenty of band stories, but perhaps one of the most humorous is how intently we would focus on the half-time shows. We’d rehearse, play the music, march on the field, laugh, flirt, prepare and then step off onto the field–both pre-game (when we played the National Anthem at home games) and during halftime.
Back in the dark ages when I attended college, UCLA’s football team had not played in the Rose Bowl in ten years. My second year, they made it, which meant the band got to go, too. (Important to note: as one band friend said, the BEST memory she had from her years in the UCLA band was the year UCLA beat USC to go to the Rose Bowl. She was right. Beating ‘SC to go WAS the best moment. But I digress . . . )
We returned to the UCLA campus the day after Christmas and began rehearsals for our half-time show. The Ohio State band was also there, and the sousaphone players, in particular, got a real kick out of watching their choice sousaphone player spring out on the field to “dot the I” in Ohio.
What a fun week.
My spot one year was the last one on the straight U line.
We rehearsed music, marched on the field, went to Disneyland, stayed up way too late in the dorms and then on the morning of January 1, headed to Pasadena to march in the Rose Parade (see top photo).
The music roars through your body when you’re in a band that big. As we marched off down the street, crowds stood and cheered, particularly during the drum cadence: Dum-da-da-dum, Da-da-dum, da dum, dum, dum. At the right moment the band all shouted “Beat Ohio!”
Riotous screaming. Lots of fun.
Then of course, three whistles from the drum major and we’d start playing, using our show-stopper “Sons of Westwood.”
(True confession: it’s the ring tone on my phone. I jerk to attention every time the phone rings–it’s the only successful one we’ve found. I also suspect I’ll be moving my fingers to the song in my coffin–it just gets into your soul).
Five miles never went faster. TOTALLY fun.
We regrouped to the buses and made our way to the stadium. The drum major sat in front of me and removing his hat, brushed the hair off his forehead and laughed.
“You’re not going to believe what I just heard. They’ve put a football game on either side of our half-time show!”
Shocking.
Marching through the tunnel and onto a football field where 100,000+ people are screaming in the stands, is a thrilling moment. (Well, maybe only 50,000, not every fan would be supporting our team).
Waiting for the whistle to march onto the field to start, is also an awe-filled time. You stand there in your uniform, clarinet (everyone’s favorite instrument) at the ready, waiting. Often a tiny breeze will blow down onto the field, and standing there before so many people, you feel small. A little lonely, even as you’re surrounded by people dressed just like you.
The thin whistle blows, your mind sends the message and your foot steps off.
Let the magic begin.
I love the band.
Who cares who wins the game?
Tomorrow will be interesting. We’re still trying to decide what to wear. Attending with my brother and his wife, they’ve got two kids at Cal. We suspect we’ll be sitting in the dark blue and gold stands.
What do you think?
Should I wear my UCLA shirt, sweatshirt and hat?
I already know I’m going to have a lot of trouble during the UCLA 8-clap.
Guess what I’m wearing to the game?
I’ll put my volume on high.
Why don’t some of you call me during the game?
Love it!! Have a great time tomorrow – wish we could go!
We learned just how much goes into puttiing on a big halftime show when our son played in the percussion section of a top-rated large-school band. And college would be so much more fun. I can tell you had a ball, Michele.
Kinda close to that: my buddy Frank and I sang in Men’s Glee Club several years (one of the few diversions we allowed ourselves from architecture school) at OK State. I’ll bet glee clubs went the way of the dinosaur. Not as big time as the Rose Bowl, but we had fun!
I’m sure male singing groups continue–but they may have a different name!
It’s the infectious energy that makes it all so much fun with college students. Can’t stand professional football, but give me a college game–preferably with a band–and I’m engaged!