Drumline Auditions
I solidly made the snare line at percussion tryouts later in the month.
I was now a four-year senior, along with another snare player Bob “Willie” M, and a few others.
A former cymbal player, Lori D, tried out for snare but was made captain of the cymbal line, hardly consolation but in itself quite an honor. I understood how she felt. She went on to become Field Commander, however, and did an absolutely amazing job in the role.
We welcomed another cool female player to the snare line, Tracey W. She had the Bs and Gs like the rest of us.
“I Heard A Rumour” by Bananarama
We worked up Pursuit, a solo with two toms in front of each snare player (a series of chromatic pitches down the line), intricately woven into the feature. The effect was dramatic as each player would reach out to the toms in perfect Rockettes-like sync.
“Pursuit” Percussion Solo
My apartment at Pierpont was on the seventh floor that year, and I got the double room in the center to myself, and had four other roommates—two junior music majors, Barb and Jen, and two others I’d never met before. One of them moved out soon after the start of the school year. The other, Kathy T from Montville, NJ, and I hit it off right away.
Kathy was a sunny, born-again Christian who followed “the good book” quite literally—women didn’t wear pants, kept hair long, were submissive to their men, abhorred fornication, etc. She was so convincing that I began questioning my own dress and decorum (including my obviously monogamous love life). Only after speaking with Pastor Robbins did I relax about such things.
Ancient social customs have little to do with the reason Jesus came to earth in the first place—we aren’t, and can never be, “perfect” by anyone’s standards.
One time, we went to her church, an Apostolic congregation. The “Hallelujah! A-MEN!” style of worship and evangelical fervor hadn’t exactly been our cup of tea, but it was an interesting experience.
Kathy’s boyfriend Dave was a really nice guy. We went out as a foursome a few times, once driving up to Pittsburgh to paint the town—dinner out and dancing. We usually took Dave’s Blazer.
Memorable and notable were the concerts John took me to see, in Baltimore and Pittsburgh, including RUSH, Yes, and Emerson Lake and Palmer. We’d road trip it and arrive back in Morgantown early the next morning. He also took me skiing for the first time at Deep Creek Lake in Maryland.
“Little Lies” by Fleetwood Mac
That semester, we fourth-year music majors had the opportunity to do some lab teaching at a local school downtown, St. Francis Elementary. Once a week, some of us carpooled and taught the recorder to the nine-year-old students.
We also signed up to teach General Music at another elementary school on the edge of town once a week. We designed lesson plans and had to be prepared with music, displays and instruments. I was assigned to Mrs. Seckel’s second grade class. At the end of the semester, I would have them sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer while playing percussion instruments in a concert at the Mountainlair.
That evening began with a small crisis—Dino expired at the gate of the ‘Lair parking garage, only to start right up like a champ after few minutes. I certainly didn’t need the aggravation before my grand finale of this assignment, and fortunately, it didn’t happen again. Dad later suspected that it was a vapor lock.
Plans were also being made for Student Teaching (C&I, or Curriculum and Instruction) in the spring. We made arrangements for placement and attended more education-focused courses.
Some Skunk Funk
The Drumline worked up a red-hot feature named Some Skunk Funk with sudden meter changes, visuals and diversity in dynamics. It was a bona fide blockbuster.
This solo came in handy during one particular demo trip. In the middle of one of our intense percussion sectionals, a few male high school students wandered by. They smirked and chortled, “Lame … they got GIRLS in their line.”
Overheard by our instructor, Adam, he kicked us into Skunk Funk, solidly delivered and nailed to the wall by players of both genders. Yep, we were smokin’.
“Some Skunk Funk” Percussion Solo
WVU Drumline – Some Skunk Funk
The dorks remained slack-jawed as Adam turned to declare loudly, “Goes to show girls can kick some ASS!!” Those of us of the feminine persuasion were vindicated, and the morons were soundly muzzled.
Cheers and a Bowl Game
I turned 21 just before Thanksgiving break, on the day of the marching band awards banquet, and I received my senior plaque. Following the dinner, John, “Bosche” (a friend of ours), and I went down to Gibbie’s on High Street. We toasted my big event as I sipped a strawberry daiquiri on the house. It was almost anticlimactic, but fun to stand on ceremony. It had been four years since John and I went to Crockett’s Lodge and I was turned away (I was just 17, and he was 21).
After Thanksgiving break, a flurry of excitement rippled through the marching band when West Virginia got a bowl bid that season. We’d be heading down to El Paso, TX with the football team to play Oklahoma State in the Sun Bowl on Christmas Day.
I knew that this would be the final performance on snare drum with the WVU Drumline.
Next fall, I’d be concluding my Music Education curriculum and joining the Percussion Ensemble, so that left little time for the demands of marching band.
Also, John had decided not to participate next year, and I wanted to spend that time with him. In retrospect, I wish I would have gone the extra season. Not only did I love participating, but 1988 was the year the Mountaineers went undefeated and played Notre Dame for the National Championship in the Fiesta Bowl in Arizona.
“Hourglass” by Squeeze
From Dad’s house in NJ, John and I drove down to Morgantown for practice and itinerary on December 22.
That trip, like the Bluebonnet Bowl in Houston three years earlier, was a fast and frenzied itinerary of practice, performance, and transit.
Early in the morning, we took eight buses up to Pittsburgh International Airport, and caught a flight to El Paso. The four-day trip included rigorous rehearsal, a walk across the bridge into Juárez, Mexico and a barbecue (all on four hours’ sleep).
I liked browsing the little shops and the palm trees were exotic. I was struck by the barren western Texas landscape, complete with tumbleweeds.
We all went to a barbecue at Cattleman’s at Indian Cliffs Ranch, complete with roasting marshmallows and the like.
The next day was an outdoor demo performance, then the Drumline played for a pep rally (“Skunk Funk” photo above), before we dressed and were shuttled over to the stadium.
The tropical getaway we’d envisioned was far from a balmy retreat by then. The weather had turned sharply colder, and at game time it was snowing.
During the match-up against Oklahoma State (which we lost 35-33) we froze in the stands, and the players on the turf faced their own challenges. Despite the conditions, it was a hell of a performance by the 1987 Mountaineers against the #11 rated Cowboys. The recap may be viewed here.
As with the Bluebonnet Bowl three years prior, we played One More Time Chuck Corea. It was my favorite piece, and the snare part sizzled.
“One More Time Chuck Corea”
WVU Band – One More Time Chuck Corea
The photo of me in performance at halftime, in which snow is plainly visible on the Astroturf is posted below.
Not the best of conditions … but as expected, we delivered a sick performance.
After halftime, while most band members huddled inside concessions, I stubbornly stuck it out in the cold, because it was my final game as a WVU snare drummer. I was not going to miss this.
With the December Keynotes concert at the Coliseum behind us, I knew that upon return to Morgantown, my drum would be retired to its case and this entire era would retreat to my past.
1987 Pregame Tenor Cadence and Boogie: “Make It Funky” (1:16 Full Drumline entrance)
WVU Drumline – Pregame Tenor Cadence and Boogie “Make It Funky”
This was even more profound than at the 1984 EBHS Band Banquet—this time I was leaving marching band for good. I knew there were “senior corps” opportunities in certain locations, but post-college work and life might preclude taking such a step. (John and I would eventually participate with the Melrose Blackhawks Drum & Bugle Corps from 2004-2019.)
The following day, we piled on the eight buses at the Rodeway Hotel, bound for the airport. Somewhere on the bus, a boom box rang out Michael Jackson’s current hit The Way You Make Me Feel. The atmosphere was subdued yet jovial, but I was plagued with melancholy.
And so ended my tenure as a WVU snare drummer. I would carry the experience with me for life, and eventually join the Alumni Band.
During winter break, John and I drove down to D.C. in my car to visit his mother’s cousin Susan, who lived in the Georgetown area. I remember really liking the Metro, Washington’s answer to the NY Subway system but much nicer. It reminded me of a subterranean Disney Monorail.
It was a frigid couple of days during which we hit the historic Mall. We had a delicious dinner at Susan’s house and she was a wonderful hostess. My mind was filled with starting Student Teaching within the next several weeks.
