Drama Queen, Exit Stage Right

Well, last nights band practice was pretty much a bust. I'm not entirely clear about what all went on--what I do know is that a friend of mine stood up and argued for keeping me in the grade 4 band, and you must know, that sort of behavior goes over big with me.

But as they say, not everyone who poops on you is your enemy, and not everyone who gets you out of poop is your friend.

As the story goes, this little birdie was standing on top of a cow pie, behind the cow, eating the bugs on the dry piece of dung, when suddenly the cow lets go a whopper, and poops all over the little bird. He's struggling for air, near to dying, when a fox hears the commotion under the dung and digs the little bird out and eats him....and so the moral of the story.

Oh wait I was talking about the band, and how it correlates to this Drama Queen over here...

Anyway, apparently there was a big meeting before I got there. I was later than usual because Ray had a doctor appointment, and there was some construction (Michigan's 5th season) which tied up traffic...but I didn't see any pipers when Ray and I arrived, so I called my friend to see if practice was at the church, and he said that everyone was inside, and that the tenors were down the hall in the tenor room talking about me.

WHAT?

Well, I'm not so sure that he was serious on that note, but I was scared to go down to the room, so I hung out with him in the snare room, and basically avoided it all. I figured that some people were getting cut, and I sure didn't want to watch the fireworks, so I took the coward's way out. Drama Queen starring in "Coward of the County".

Shortly, presently, or whatever term you want to use, the Drum Major and all the tenors came into the snare room to work on the schedule. The Drum Major puts his hand on my shoulder and says

"Grade 5 doesn't have any tenors to play in their competitions all year. Will you play with Grade 5?"

I told him that I was going to all the games, and he could put me in whatever band he chose, but inside, my heart sort of fell a little. Still, it wasn't like he'd dropped me completely, and I had heard that the bass drummer had recommended that I be cut completely. All things considered, it was a very gentle "let down", but a "let down" nonetheless.

Well, since I'm the only tenor 3 in grade 4, I'm thinking that I'm stuck--what can I do? I can't very well leave grade 4 unattended, can I? Should I? Inside, I'm pretty freaked out, and I look at Ed and ask "What does he want me to do? It's not that I don't want to play in grade 5, but I want to play in grade 4, and I'm the only tenor 3 in grade 4--what do I do?"

And he told me not to worry about it.

I started to cry.

Sharon told me to stop it. I told her I'd go to the bathroom. She told me I couldn't, so I said "but I gotta go to the bathroom!" and I laughed a little, so she let me go.

So I cried a little alone in the bathroom.

When I came out, they were still haggling over the schedule, and I just sort of sat there looking like a poopy-head--then came time to go outdoors to play.

So I get out my drum and paraphernalia and get ready to play. As the Drum Major passes he says "I want you to practice with the Grade 5 bunch today." and I said "okay", already playing the tenor score to the tune the grade 5 band was working on at the time. Then my friends came out to play.

"It's not fair," said one. The other one agreed, and then they looked at each other and said "we don't have to really practice this for a long time--let's just go home."

And then and there they left me, standing all alone by myself in the parking lot, while the younger women tenor players were suiting up to play in the grade 4 band.

Then the Drum Major came over and asked me where my friends had taken off to, to which I replied "I think they went home."

And he said, well, come on over and play with the grade 4 bunch then.

Okay.

So I practiced again with the grade 4 bunch, while the grade 5 band played nearby.

And I wondered--what's going to happen to ME? What's going to happen with my friendships? Are they just gone? Like that?

So I wrote to one of them this morning. I got back an email that she was going to a meeting, and would respond later. You know how much I just love to wait, right?

Today, I watched the drumming video of the lot of us--and for the most part, the people who are most together when flourishing are Liberty, Abby (who only sat down with the music for a week and she's got it--I hate her--not really, she's a nice person!) and me...which is very odd, because I would have said that it was Sharon, Judy and I, but it wasn't at all.

So I can be a grade 4 tenor, my friends Sharon and Judy will hate me, and I won't get to play with them all summer, and be able to stretch myself and grow and make a name for myself in the drumming world that will totally annihilate Randy and the best that he could do, taking advantage of my friend's sticking up for me, OR

I can be a grade 5 tenor drummer, play with my friends here and there, make the grade 5 band sound well, while Randy once finding out about it, will crow that "she couldn't cut it in grade 4!!!" with that laughter that reminds me of the Joker in Batman that's more like a slap in the face than anything else.

Why does it matter to me what HE thinks? Probably because he thinks that he's god's gift, the best drummer there is (well, at least he says so, and I believed him), and really, if I had to admit it, his opinion really isn't worth all that much to me--but I just feel this need to know that "I showed him" since he was constantly harping on my drumming (according to Ray) and how Ray would be responsible if *I* made a mistake that caused the band to fall apart.

Oh big blow to my confidence there--it's not enough that I had to endure my OWN doubts about my playing ability, I had to listen to the reports that came from Randy through Ray. His opinion still counts in my head--

BUT WHY? Why should it? He was, is, and always will be a mule (think relative, here). I guess it's because I looked up to him in a way. I thought he was pretty great. I thought he was really talented. No seriously, I did think those things. He had a personality that seemed bigger than life itself, with stories to back it up (never mind that most of them turned out to be lies--at the time, I thought they were true. I had only him to believe in, see?), and I suppose that it's sort of like when your husband dies on you, you can't find somebody to take his place, because he was such a great (insert adjective here).

Unfortunately, he's not dead.

Anyway, Ray told me that some woman called him Monday night at 8:30pm, and said a few words, but he couldn't quite make them out, and then he heard Randy in the background bellowing that "I've told you never to call him, and I mean it!" I wondered if she was looking for some sort of corroboration on something that Randy told her. I understand that the phone was slammed down at that point--nothing else left to say apparently.

You make the call on that one. Frankly, I don't believe anybody anymore--except for myself, and I do try to be true to myself, and honest with myself. I want to play in grade 4. I look like a crone out there playing with all the younger women, and probably look like an idiot besides. Honesty says I look like an idiot and should be playing with my friends in grade 5.

Like I said, drama queen, exit stage right.