Kick Drum Heart


An unimpressive post if you want me to be respectful

So, must be I need to practice some more. At class night tonight, the United States Marines could recognize me publically for my musical accomplishments, but not my own band or choir directors.

Not that I’m complaining. I guess I should practice once in a while.

It's not as if I play this constantly, or anything

It’s not as if I don’t constantly, oh, I don’t know, live in the band room or anything.

But no. Okay, that’s totally fine. I don’t need anything from an institution that I love, that has taught me so much, if it’s going to be given grudgingly. Truthfully, I don’t need anything from Jill Fried, either. Or any member of  the music department.

I know that I want to perform, teach, and breathe music. I am completely aware of this fact. And given that I have already taken and am currently taking huge steps to ensure that that’s what I’ll do, I don’t really give a damn.

And you know, it just gives me more incentive to go and kick ass in the music world. Just like Fredonia denying me: it’s an even more powerful motivator to try and learn and listen and do all that I can to be the musician I know I am capable of being.

And it might be really petty of me, but it gives me more incentive to practice tomorrow. And hope that my fricking marimba/Italian will reach the ears of those so-called “teachers” and shove the fact that I love it and will succeed at it down their throats.



So here’s what I think, and call me out if you want

So, things in Gowanda have been ridiculously dramatic lately. There was a huge conniption about the lacrosse team’s season being terminated.

Can we take a minute to think about why?

Someone filmed a locker boxing match and posted it on Youtube, tagged it with Gowanda’s name. From what I’ve heard (and this is all from fairly reliable sources, but bear in mind they could be wrong), various varsity players jumped into the match, some tried to break it up. Fifteen players weren’t even present.

Superintendent Rinaldi called a meeting this past Monday, with apparent intent to discuss the potential termination of the season.

No one thought that members of the team and their families would be “discussing” for twenty-some minutes, then shut down completely. There would be No Season. The decision had already been made, prior to the meeting.

So today, the majority of the lacrosse players and zealous supporters left school twelfth period to carry signs outside the school. Excessive bashing of Rinaldi has gone on all week. Not undeserved, but I think people have forgotten the reason the season was shut down in the first place.

The team’s actions reflect back on the sport and the school system itself. They were fighting. Personally, I don’t believe it belongs in any sport, especially within our own freaking team. It’s one thing to get riled up during a game– I get it, I’m a sports fan. I like it when people play with passion for their sport and their teammates. It’s quite another to make one’s school and team look really stupid. If it’s a ritualistic thing, a guy thing, then they should have done it off school grounds.

The team’s actions reflect back on the sport and the school system itself. They were fighting. I’m definitely not condoning it. But there have been other instances of similarly dumb ass behavior, and no seasons have been taken away from other sports. No one has been suspended for refusing to break up a fight. That does not reflect consistent behavior from the administration.

Why use helmets when there are such hard heads around?

To keep it consistent, it only makes sense to punish the kids who were involved. Certainly take them off the team. But on the other hand, there are fights that occur in school, real ones (not just friendly boy-like scuffles), with intent to injure. And students stand around jeering and laughing. Those students who do nothing, just stand and watch, aren’t suspended, are they? Inconsistencies.

Why disband an entire team because they did what most students would do? In one much more violent debacle earlier this school year, only three students rushed to break up the fight. The altercation took place in the cafeteria, with adults and many other students present. The participants were punished, not the students observing or the adults panicking.

And yeah, I’ll admit, coaches should have taken more responsibility for their team being foolish, and the team should have acted like grown ups about it. Their teammates, their friends, acted like idiots. Own up to it. Be men, okay?

But again, here’s what I think. It should be the same for any other sport. Football, baseball, whatever. Even musicals. There are kids on ineligibility that perform every year and nothing is done. It’s pathetic that the system can pick and choose which rules to enforce. And then come down hard when they want to. That’s irregular and unjust. But back to sports.

Rinaldi asked me during my interview yesterday, what would I say to those people who suggest cutting the arts and sports and focusing strictly on academics? What would I have to say to anyone who suggested removing a sports program or a music or art class?

I said that’s probably one of the most awful things a district can do. Kids have a passion for a sport. It brings them together, unifies them and heightens their social skills, physical health, and (should) make them better, more responsible, and more worthwhile people to have in a community. To have in society.

It comes down to the fact that because a few stupid kids screwed up, the entire team has to pay. And the entire team didn’t screw up as a whole. Some members are being disrespectful now, after the fact, and that’s going to make them look like belligerent children. That’s not cool.

But there’s a time to distinguish between the actions of a team and the actions of a few individuals, and deliver consequences to the ones who deserve it. The majority of the team is made up of really good guys who love the sport, love to play lacrosse for this school, and would do just about anything to see it reinstated. And that might mean taking responsibility for what their teammates did, owning up to it, and maybe apologizing for unteamlike and unprofessional behavior. They didn’t act like lacrosse players by throwing a fit and marching out in the rain. Playing catch and skipping school. They acted like little kids. It comes down to the fact that because a few stupid kids seriously messed up, the entire team has to pay. And the entire team didn’t mess up as a whole. Some members are being disrespectful now, after the fact, and that’s going to make them look like belligerent children. That’s not decent.

But, that said, I feel like the complete termination of the 2010 Varsity and JV lacrosse seasons is a punishment that’s too extreme to fit the crime. It demonstrates administrative actions that mirror a lack of consistency. There was an offense committed, duh. Locker boxing and the filming of said activity is embarrassing and makes Gowanda look foolish. The participants should certainly be punished accordingly. However, the members of the team that did not participate in the activity or were not present shouldn’t be held accountable. Let ’em play.



Forgive yourself, if you think you can

8:14 AM
8/19/09

My heart’s, my heart’s like a kick drum. Ba bum-bum-bum-bum-bump. I’m exhausted, sore. As the strange army guy we worked with on Monday would say, emotionally starving. Or was it spiritually? Whatever.

I hate it when people think they know you upon meeting you. This man comes up to Brendan, Skylar, James and I at Assembly of God and introduces himself, tells us he was/is a drill sergeant at some military training base. He’s going back to Iraq next month. Now, that’s all well and good and interesting until he asks us what we’re doing after high school. So we tell him, and then he begins rambling about the army and how after an hour talking to his students/trainees/maggots/whatever he can see right through them.

Yes, great. So what do you see in me, Mr. Omniscient? Who exactly do you think you are, you cocky bastard?

Brendan asks him the same thing, albeit much more politely.

“So what do you know about me?”

He doesn’t break stride in informing Brendan that he believes Brendan to be an upstanding guy and dedicated to his community.

Well, obviously, moron. He’s only tired-looking, dirty, and at the volunteer base, sun-tanned and sweaty. However, one might take him for a demonic acid addict with a penchant for axe murdering.

Let’s just say I wasn’t so impressed with Military’s people-reading skills. He started speaking to us– four kids– about God and the military next. About how war is necessary, and if God has a strong-arm, the United States is it.

I can understand and respect the guy’s loyalty, but God is the only one who can judge who deserves to die and who doesn’t. And as Brendan very delicately pointed out, it seems like believing that is like serving two gods.

The Commander in Chief isn’t holy, sorry, buddy.

…….

Now I’m on to another thought process. Just kind of floating along, here. I had to go make the coffee and put my mom’s lunch in the fridge in the back room and now I’m wondering when Brendan will get here, so I’m a little distracted.

I’m so sore. I don’t want to have to walk from the bank to the relocated base at the Moose. I’m all bruised up and scratched. It’s a satisfied battered, but I feel like the hammer I smashed repeatedly into my hand yesterday hit everywhere else, too. And now Brendan’s here. Time to start another day.



Why, that’s absurd (Blogging at 5:00 AM on a Sunday from a shitty, borrowed laptop)

I don’t know if there’s a better reason for being up this early other than I can’t fall back to sleep, but I didn’t want to take the chance that there was. It sounds stupid, but I don’t want to miss a thing… I’m reading The Irresistible Revolution right now and Brendan was right, it does change you. Already I am searching hard at my life, looking for ways that God can use me. I have the inkling I’m looking a little too closely, but I’d rather try and look too hard than not at all. Although, isn’t God the one who will find service and drop it in my lap? See, I don’t know. So I’m confused and starting to get eye and soul strain, here.

Oh, and I think I was trying to text in my sleep again. Cait wasn’t here last night to check on me, but I woke up and my phone was next to me instead of shoved back way under my pillow, so I was moving around pretty forcefully, at least.

I love sleep. I don’t want to give up sleeping because I act like a moron and can’t stop from growling out names and trying to contact people in the dead of the night. How absurd.

The word “absurd” makes me think of “Titanic,” and Rose. “Why that’s absurd!”

I wish I had a Jack (preferably one that wouldn’t sink). I think he’d be a lot of fun, and he’d think I was fun too so there would be no issue. He wouldn’t be too hesistant or too much of a whore. He would want to talk to me or screw me in a car, depending on the moment. We’d have a lot of good times. He wouldn’t expect commitment or a solemn vow of dedication and devotion– he would adore me in the moment, just as I would him. He would understand that there was only one life to live and enjoy, and he’d want to spend a few short moments of his with me.

That, to me, is the perfect balance in a guy. Not too flighty, so I think I’m cheap, but not that willing to settle down, either. I don’t want to feel trapped. I don’t want to have to spend every waking moment thinking about one person and how they feel and what they think and how best to please them. I want, for once, for someone to want to please me but not want to commit to anything serious. I thought boys liked to be considerate sluts?

I’m not saying I want someone for a fuck-and-run. I don’t want to spend time with a guy I can’t respect or have a decent conversation with. But there should be some kind of happy medium, an easy chemistry that doesn’t require too much input from either of us. I want a friend who likes to kiss me, I guess. Haha.

Whatever, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m probably not posting this. At least not until eight o’ clock, anyway. I might go back to sleep. God will find me, I hope. Or else I’ll keep searching, just not when I’m on six hours of sleep on a Sunday morning. Good night.