I Don't Slide - I Crab.

I just want to blog about something funny.

For those of you who aren't in Marching Band, or have never been in Marching Band, just...ignore my band vocab.
BUT if you are or were once in this greatly insane lifestyle for six-ish months of the year...you'll get it.

So we were doing block exercises for the latter part of rehearsal. And we got to the point where the instructors wanted to do a block-off (you know...to see who was the best and challenge them further - making the rest of us look like crap).
If you messed up, you were tapped either on the shoulder or your drum, and you had to walk away and stand at attention in a line.

We got to little over half of the band standing at attention when two freshmen clarinets were giggling and whispering.
Kevin Clay - the assistant drum major and a friend of mine who's always good for a laugh - told them to take a lap.
They drop their clarinets and continue to laugh and talk as they start to run. At that, Kevin shouted after them:

"DON'T FUCKING TALK WHILE YOU'RE RUNNING A LAP!"

I don't think there was anybody on the concrete field that wasn't laughing. I buried my head in my drum and laughed until I started to do that annoying squeak-thing I do when I really get tickled. It took all I had to compose myself when the instructors called us back to attention.

"Don't talk, and don't fidget - otherwise Kevin WILL curse at you."