Well, it's finally here. 2009. According to Obama, a year of change is promised to all. Last night, at the stroke of midnight, Tinkerbell came and anointed me with her magic wand. Forgotten are the mistakes and failures of the past. Gone. History. That clean slate glistens just as white and clean as the foot of snow that fell here yesterday on the prairie.
When I taught school, I used to give an annual fireside chat about fresh starts to my band on the first day of school. This was my time to find those special words that would motivate and inspire my students to musical heights never yet achieved.
Wearing my best teacher smile, I searched the back row until I found him. I said, "Hey, Paul, I found this....Is this YOUR drumstick?" How's THAT for eloquence? I passed back to him remnants of a crooked, splintered drumstick, vicariously held together by a silver band of duct tape.
"Boy, aren't you glad it's September? Look, I have a NEW pair of sticks!!" Paul waved them high in the air. "It's a brand new year," he replied.
And there you have it. The members of the band were laughing hysterically, except for my reserved little flute players in the front row, who managed to do their best Mona Lisa impressions. The band was remembering how during the prior school year, Paul had taken it upon himself to conduct a science experiment: If great centrifugal force is applied, how far, exactly, can a drumstick travel if rammed inside the bell of a trumpet? The answer is "pretty darn far." The bonus question: "Can a drumstick indeed get seriously stuck inside of a trumpet?" Please call on me, teacher, 'cause I know the correct answer to this one.
Yes, this actually happened. And of course, according to Murphy's Law, it happened two minutes before we were to take the stage to perform at the annual Senior Citizens Holiday Assembly. I had lined the kids all up backstage; I had removed the headband of fake reindeer antlers that Sean wore on his head. We were focused and ready. We were all set to razzle dazzle the community with our renditions of holiday favorites.
"Psssst, Paul REALLY needs you to look at something 'n fix it."
And there in the back stood Paul, with a giant smirk on his face.
Have you ever noticed that drummers ALWAYS have smirks on their faces? This is actually a test that all band directors perform when determining the proper instrument for each student to play. Science has proven that it's very difficult to blow air through any kind of mouthpiece or reed if there is a constant smirk frozen onto the lips of the performer. These kids immediately get selected to go to the outer stratosphere of the band. Call them Plutoniums. I call them Drummers. It is back there that they happily smirk their musical careers away by banging, crashing and booming their way into percussion stardom .
Paul stood there, clutching only one available stick in his hands. Do you have any idea how hard it is to drumroll or paradiddle with just one stick??? Just how the hell does one go "Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum" with just one drumstick? Paul pointed to Steve, my solo chair trumpeter, who also happened to be my official horse whinnier on the song "Sleigh Ride". And rammed down the bell of Steve's trumpet, I could see the protruding butt of Paul's drumstick. Steve was sweating bullets and looked like he was going to cry. Poor Steve. Definitely not drummer material.
To make a long story not quite so long, I decided to let Paul live, even though his drumstick wasn't quite as fortunate. Steve's trumpet had to go to the repairshop for a major transfusion.
We all need fresh starts. A time when bygones can indeed be bygones. A time to see things with a freshness and a spirit of hope. If you think about it, every day can offer those same promises. We always have the opportunity to right a wrong, to forgive and forget, to change something in ourselves that we don't like. It can occur on the first of January as well as on the first Tuesday after Labor Day. Happy New Year, Paul, wherever you are.
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