Tune in to Tubas

摘要

I watched as a laughing, rowdy gang of teenagers advanced onto the field. They carried shiny metal hardware that gleamed in the afternoon sun. Waves of music began to thump and pound and crash through the air. I cringed as a piccolo player careened into a tuba player who swerved into the path of a trumpet player. Then I relaxed as the marching band sorted itself out and traffic resumed. "Marching band? You've gotta be kidding. That's for dorks," I scoffed when I was a smug high-school coed. A few years later, I soothed my shivering toddler as we watched band after band inarch past us during a subzero Christmas parade. "Soon," I promised Karen. "Santa will come by very soon, sweetie." Every New Year's Day, the televised Rose Bowl parade seemed less a pageant for flowered floats and horse brigades and more an endless showcase for marching musicians. "Aack! Another marching band?" I complained. "You've got to be kidding!"