Read Online Notes From An Accidental Band Geek by Erin Dionne - Free Book Online
Authors: Erin Dionne
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you need to get out.”
Not according to my dad, I thought. He probably wouldn’t even let me go—he’d say I was too young, or give me a hard time about “distractions.” He’d probably never even been to a dance!
For a second, I missed the relationship I used to have with my dad. He’d give me all kinds of insider info on the drama behind the curtain of the BSO—who was auditioning for other symphonies, what the guest conductors were really like, which sections pulled the best pranks on the violas (everyone’s favorite targets, for some reason)—and it made symphony life sound exciting and fun and special, like the members were one big, dramatic family. I wanted to be part of all of it—the specialness, the fun, the excitement, the drama . . . it’s why I worked so hard.
But ever since I’d overheard how he really felt about my playing, it was like I couldn’t listen to anything else he said—all I heard were the words “She thinks she can get in, but I’m not so sure.” Where I’d once wanted to follow in his footsteps and be just like him, lately I felt that I needed to prove myself to him—be better than he thought I was. Be better than everyone thinks I am .
Sarah was still waiting for my response. As much as I wanted to stay home and practice—and needed to do that—I had to show my dad that I could do it all.
“Okay,” I said before I thought about it much longer. “I’m game. Do you have any costume ideas?”
Sarah squeed and clapped her hands, then started prattling about how much fun we were going to have on our walk to the caf. I tried to ignore the growing knot in my stomach.
We put our lunches on the table and Sarah announced, “She’s in!”
I said “Huh?” at the same time Jake and Hector said “Cool!”
“We’re all going,” Sarah said. “You know, as a group. A bunch of the band people.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sarah’s announcement made me feel simultaneously betrayed—for not revealing the “group thing” right away—and shy. What if someone asked to dance with me? What if no one did? Which was the better option, really? The one dance Alisha dragged me to in junior high ended when, while bopping along to some Theo Christmas tune, I slipped in a puddle of spilled punch and sprained my ankle. Putting me with a partner? No way. Spending the evening with Brahms was looking better and better. I huffed, then slumped in my chair while everyone started talking about costumes.
“We should coordinate as a group,” Hector said. “You know, pick a movie or something and all go as characters from it.”
“Great idea!” Sarah said. “We could totally be characters from Dusk .”
“The vampire movie?” Jake asked. Sarah nodded. She’d been obsessed with the Dusk vampires since her cousin took her to the movie a couple of weeks ago.
Steve, who’d plunked down his lunch, groaned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why?” Sarah pouted.
“Duh! Every girl is going to go as a Dusk vampire—it’ll be so lame! You guys can come up with something better, especially if the four of you coordinate.”
The four of them tossed ideas around like a beach ball at a rock concert.
“The Scooby gang!”
“Charlie Brown!”
“Superheroes ! ”
“Villains!”
“ Star Wars characters!” That was from Hector, big surprise.
“What about Muppets?” Jake said. Silence.
“I like the Muppets,” I offered.
“Yeah, me too,” said Hector. Sarah agreed.
Steve nodded. “Now, that’ll be a good one—retro, without being geeky.”
We decided that Jake would be Kermit, Hector Fozzie Bear, Sarah would be Janice, which left me with . . .
“Oh, no way! I am not going to be Miss Piggy!” I crossed my arms. “No way, no how.”
“Come on, Elsie—you’ll be a great Miss Piggy!” Sarah said.
“That is not a nice thing to say, Sarah.” I scowled at her.
“Well, you have the hair for it, and the attitude,” Hector said. That last part, about my attitude, came out
Not according to my dad, I thought. He probably wouldn’t even let me go—he’d say I was too young, or give me a hard time about “distractions.” He’d probably never even been to a dance!
For a second, I missed the relationship I used to have with my dad. He’d give me all kinds of insider info on the drama behind the curtain of the BSO—who was auditioning for other symphonies, what the guest conductors were really like, which sections pulled the best pranks on the violas (everyone’s favorite targets, for some reason)—and it made symphony life sound exciting and fun and special, like the members were one big, dramatic family. I wanted to be part of all of it—the specialness, the fun, the excitement, the drama . . . it’s why I worked so hard.
But ever since I’d overheard how he really felt about my playing, it was like I couldn’t listen to anything else he said—all I heard were the words “She thinks she can get in, but I’m not so sure.” Where I’d once wanted to follow in his footsteps and be just like him, lately I felt that I needed to prove myself to him—be better than he thought I was. Be better than everyone thinks I am .
Sarah was still waiting for my response. As much as I wanted to stay home and practice—and needed to do that—I had to show my dad that I could do it all.
“Okay,” I said before I thought about it much longer. “I’m game. Do you have any costume ideas?”
Sarah squeed and clapped her hands, then started prattling about how much fun we were going to have on our walk to the caf. I tried to ignore the growing knot in my stomach.
We put our lunches on the table and Sarah announced, “She’s in!”
I said “Huh?” at the same time Jake and Hector said “Cool!”
“We’re all going,” Sarah said. “You know, as a group. A bunch of the band people.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sarah’s announcement made me feel simultaneously betrayed—for not revealing the “group thing” right away—and shy. What if someone asked to dance with me? What if no one did? Which was the better option, really? The one dance Alisha dragged me to in junior high ended when, while bopping along to some Theo Christmas tune, I slipped in a puddle of spilled punch and sprained my ankle. Putting me with a partner? No way. Spending the evening with Brahms was looking better and better. I huffed, then slumped in my chair while everyone started talking about costumes.
“We should coordinate as a group,” Hector said. “You know, pick a movie or something and all go as characters from it.”
“Great idea!” Sarah said. “We could totally be characters from Dusk .”
“The vampire movie?” Jake asked. Sarah nodded. She’d been obsessed with the Dusk vampires since her cousin took her to the movie a couple of weeks ago.
Steve, who’d plunked down his lunch, groaned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why?” Sarah pouted.
“Duh! Every girl is going to go as a Dusk vampire—it’ll be so lame! You guys can come up with something better, especially if the four of you coordinate.”
The four of them tossed ideas around like a beach ball at a rock concert.
“The Scooby gang!”
“Charlie Brown!”
“Superheroes ! ”
“Villains!”
“ Star Wars characters!” That was from Hector, big surprise.
“What about Muppets?” Jake said. Silence.
“I like the Muppets,” I offered.
“Yeah, me too,” said Hector. Sarah agreed.
Steve nodded. “Now, that’ll be a good one—retro, without being geeky.”
We decided that Jake would be Kermit, Hector Fozzie Bear, Sarah would be Janice, which left me with . . .
“Oh, no way! I am not going to be Miss Piggy!” I crossed my arms. “No way, no how.”
“Come on, Elsie—you’ll be a great Miss Piggy!” Sarah said.
“That is not a nice thing to say, Sarah.” I scowled at her.
“Well, you have the hair for it, and the attitude,” Hector said. That last part, about my attitude, came out
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