My First Post: What I Miss About Drum Corps

This isn't all I miss:
Inspections.
The Great Weekend shows in MA!
Driving all night from NYC to wind up in a Howard Johnson's to eat in Ohio where people would say things like: "I never saw a colored person in person before - you are much more behaved than we see on TV" (True!)
The honesty you would receive from a corps that beat you and the admission that you did a great job in spite of that.
The corps that would lend you equipment when you needed it.
The fact that all the corps members you were competing against were under the age to vote.
That when you had a hole in your horn line, it was because that guy was "over there."
Sitting with kids you never met before and might not ever see again and sharing your experiences.
Answering questions like: "How Do You Guys Do That?" and not really knowing the answer.
Having to explain to kids in Kenosha, Racine, Jacksonville that being a Black kid from NYC is not that much different from them.
Not really knowing (before the internet, and yes we had Fleetwood album covers and Drum Corps New and Moe Knox's great photos!) what the corps you would be competing against looked like.
How boring Idaho is.
How every Motel pool is exactly the same - it was very good to know that.
That Indiana was even more boring.
That every practice field before the show was a pit of holes.
That hot dogs everywhere are different.
That butter in Madison tastes better than anywhere.
That we could eat butter.
That we could eat food - real food in real restaurants - If Howard Johnson's counts.
That we didn't have to sleep in gyms on the floor.
That our uniforms were always clean.
And because, when we were on the road, (on tour) people in the towns, (except Jacksonville Florida in the late sixties) treated us with good will and knew that we were just young kids out of our element.
Those were great times to travel throughout this country and a great learning experience - our naive outlook at 15 & 16 was something that today's 19 & 20 year old participants cannot even fathom.
Every single moment was new. Every mile traveled was an adventure. Every new town, show, morning and evening was something wonderful to perceive. I miss that the most.
I miss the starting gun.
I miss the camaraderie.
I miss coming home over the Verrazano Narrows or George Washington Bridges and seeing the NYC skyline and know we were home.
And I miss knowing that we were going to do it all over again the next weekend.
Puppet