Stoked for Snare
I attended ASTA as a counselor, which was a welcome diversion from the grief I felt at home. I threw myself into the activities and all of the typical fun of the kids, programs, and hijinks. Looking forward to my return to school, I prepared for band camp. Given the summer’s emotional demands, I was hardly able to put in as much practice time for percussion auditions.
“Venus” by Bananarama
During the tryouts in the studio, it was obvious I was somewhat stiff, though I knew I could cut it once I got back up to speed. Unfortunately, when the names were read, mine was on the cymbal roster. I nearly passed out from the shock. They KNEW damn well I had the right stuff. It was time to clarify to the department exactly why my audition was sub-par.
I had never been one to wear my family’s problems on my sleeve, much less capitalize on my mother’s illness to my own benefit. However, there was a legitimate reason for my temporary stiffness. Considering my third-year Music Ed course requirements, I was not inclined to participate at all if it meant not devoting that time to snare drum.
Director of Percussion Dave Satterfield received an immediate visit during which I asked for another audition, explaining my situation. I was granted another chance the next morning, on the stage of the Concert Theatre. Dave was perched several feet away, watching and listening intently.
Having practiced like a nut overnight, I was loose and pure adrenaline locked every stroke, roll and rudiment. Dave put one player on bass, and the snare line was reshuffled that day. Dazed, I got an instrument and took my place where I belonged.
1986 Boogie Cadence, 220, segue, Fight Mountaineers, Mountain Dew, drumline street cadence
Don’t Make Me Choose
That semester, one of the Division of Music professors, Dr. Wilson took me aside. He stated that as a string major, I had to choose between orchestra and band. For two years, I’d successfully shouldered a larger course load in the fall because it was worth the time and effort. Now it was suddenly a problem? Hearing this, I instantly saw red, and began to plot how to fight it. It was the latest instance in which I had to battle to attain or keep my spot in the line.
I immediately met with Don Wilcox, Director of Bands, and Dave Satterfield. I explained the situation and arranged a meeting for all four of us for the following day, and they would support my stance. I had no intention of giving up the snare drum— I would continue choosing Drumline sectionals over orchestra on Wednesday nights.
Lo and behold, Wilson stepped into the elevator with me the next day just before the meeting was to take place. “You can stay in band.” I delivered my most savage side-eye and got off at the next floor.
Nice try, Prof.
I met a couple of cool female snare drummers, Carolyn B and Dottie F. Band camp was intense as always, and John and I were back to the comforting predictability of college life.
Music from the first part of junior year at WVU included Venus by Bananarama, Love Zone by Billy Ocean, Sweet Freedom by Michael MacDonald, Rumours by Timex Social Club, The Captain of Her Heart by Double, and Sweet Love by Anita Baker.
Apartment Life
I was now living at Pierpont House, in apartment 904-2, with Eunice, Teri Lynn and Cyndee. There was no need for a layover before moving to Towers this year. Following a rough summer, I had achieved the snare line again, and I was ready to refocus on school.
John got a two-bedroom place with his friend Tim at Pineview Apartments, down past the football stadium that semester. Somehow John acquired the necessary furniture for his bedroom, the living room and kitchen. Tim, a computer science major, showed me his PC and I was fascinated.
I liked it at Pierpont. My single room in the apartment was nice, with a 9th floor view of the Evansdale campus, including the PRT track below, and there was a TV and study lounge downstairs, with laundry facilities.
We met the guys across the hall— Bob K, Gene and Bob B (known as “Bear”). Bob K. took to me and got very friendly very fast. Sometime in October, Bob and I got together in his room (“mine” but on the flip-side of the building) and made out on his bed, against my better judgment.
He knew about my relationship with John, and for me I suppose it was a lapse of sanity. I hit the brakes after that and Bob had no choice but to back off.
Eunice wasted no time in getting cozy with Gene. (She had also dated the Greg H from “Key Signature/Dick Tease” freshman year.) We would make kielbasa jokes and split our guts laughing.
Another Mouth to Feed!?
An unpleasant situation developed that blew up and ended in eviction of one of our roommates. Cyndee’s boyfriend Chris, while outwardly a nice guy, was in the apartment ALL THE TIME … mornings, days, evenings, and nights. Apparently he had no place to go, so he was crashing with us.
“What Have You Done For Me Lately” by Janet Jackson
Janet Jackson – What Have You Done For Me Lately
He would stay on the couch, watching our TV, using our bathroom and kitchen, and inadvertently being annoying— no trekking to the fridge in our skivvies at midnight. We were told it was “temporary” until he found a place.
Well, for the first few weeks, Eunice, Teri-Lynn and I put up with this. It became a big problem when it was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere. We repeatedly implored Cyndee to please send him on his way; he was making the rest of us uncomfortable.
Cyndee also kept a pet purebred chinchilla in a cage in her and Teri’s room, her secret temporarily safe with us … until this situation ballooned out of control. The three of us decided one day that we had to take drastic measures to get rid of Chris, but unfortunately, it also meant Cyndee would probably have to go.
We went down to see the building management to “let the chinchilla out of the bag” so to speak. Cyndee then received a written warning to find another home for the animal or face eviction proceedings.
She ended up moving out, which of course put Chris in a bad way, hollering and screaming at us about “how could we do this to them”, and “what did we ever do to you”. He even went so far as to threaten us bodily, which I relayed to John.
John mentioned this to his friends Tim, Mike and Dave. One night the four of them went over to the CAC to stiff-arm Chris into leaving us the hell alone. They chased Chris around the building as he shrieked, “don’t mess with the Vs from New York” to which John’s cronies retorted the misguided virtues of pissing with my Newark family.
Eunice’s dad and friend “Big Jim” drove down from Wheeling as a convincer, and we slept at Kennyann’s that night so we didn’t have to deal with him moving his stuff out.
Chris was never seen again, and we believe Cyndee left school at the end of the semester.
We felt bad about what had happened, but in retrospect we reasoned that we had to take no prisoners on this one. Cyndee’s responsibility was to her paying roommates in handling the situation with her boyfriend, no matter the circumstances.
The rest of us had no inclination to let him continue crashing at our place rent-free, not to mention put up with the resulting inconveniences. So, as a result, each of us ended up with our own rooms.
All year, we had “Midweek Crisis” parties at our apartment, with beer and other creative concoctions. They were well-attended, and usually raised the roof. I’m surprised we were able to get up for classes the next morning.
That semester was also my first exposure to computers—I had a Computer Awareness module, entailing several sessions in the microcomputer lab downtown. I got a 5 1/2 inch floppy to program, and did well at it on an Apple II.
Bang On The Drum All Day
The WVU Drumline was hotter than ever that season. Our first solo, Frankenstein was based upon the song by the Edgar Winter Group.
“Frankenstein” Percussion Solo
We used Eddie Kendricks’ Boogie Down and our original Spider cadences again this year. These lent the same funky rhythmic beat to marching in parade formation to and from performances.
“Spider” and “Boogie Down” cadences
WVU Drumline – Spider/Boogie Down Percussion Cadences
Music from first semester junior year at WVU included Word Up by Cameo, Walk Like an Egyptian by the Bangles, C’est L Vie by Robbie Nevil, and Land of Confusion by Genesis.
Just before Thanksgiving break, all of us at the apartment contributed to a huge turkey dinner in the hallway.
Coffee tables were lined up lengthwise and we sat on the floor for our feast.
What a blast! Gene, built like a linebacker, practically put away the entire turkey. We were like a little family that year.
I had been calling Dad to check in on them since I’d left for school in August, and they seemed to be doing all right.
Since the Syracuse game was the Saturday before break, Dad and my brother came down to see it and then drive me home. John’s parents also came down for the game, and the parents met for the first time that weekend.
My visit home for Thanksgiving break was fun, but not having Mom there was very strange. I did all those things like going on the Tractor-Trailer and visiting family and friends.
John drove out to spend Thanksgiving with us, and we went to Aunt Marietta’s for the holiday. Mark came over that Friday, and he met John. I played the WVU Drum solos for him.
“C’est La Vie” by Robbie Nevil
Steven had not re-enrolled in high school, and was descending into an unfortunate spiral of an unproductive, decade-long existence of television, video games, staying up all night, hanging with the wrong crowd, and chasing girls. I tried to talk to him about getting back into a more typical routine for someone his age. This would have been his senior year in high school.
I encouraged him to seek some sort of a productive life beyond school as well, pointing out that there were education loans available (as Mom had guided me). I didn’t know quite how to reach him; it had been a bad situation with Mom’s illness and passing and horrible timing in his formative years.
My dad just went to work every day, and spent time at bars and pool halls, passing his time. He met quite a few women who wanted to settle down, and while he absentmindedly enjoyed some companionship, he made it absolutely clear there would be no replacement for his Lucille.
During break, I had to take care of some legal business as Executrix for my mother’s estate. I visited Mr. DeMaio, the attorney, in Matawan and at the surrogate’s office in New Brunswick. There were papers to be signed, bank business to attend to and funds to be allocated.
I was initially puzzled as to why my mother chose me to handle her estate instead of my father, but Dad seemed comfortable enough with the arrangement. More of the same continued via Certified Mail, once I returned to school.
With Mom gone, I attended to Student Loan business, dealing with the bank, the financial aid office at WVU and arranging for tuition to be paid upon registration for each new semester. It made my head spin to see this sort of financial obligation accumulating on my neck, but I also knew it was a necessary evil and that upon settlement of the estate, my school debt would be satisfied.
My college education is a gift I will always cherish.
