America (**** YEAH!)

And so, my surreal weekend has come to an end. I don't normally get caught up in the patriotic aspects of some of the musical performances I'm in. Whether it's the Fourth of July or a fireman's parade or some Italian saint, most of the gigs are just gigs and nothing more. There's about six months in the year on which I'm playing just about every weekend and sometimes more. It all blurs together. But Memorial Day has always been different. It was the first big parade I played in while in Middle School, and had I gone to the local High School instead of a private one that my parents sent me to, I would have continued to play in it. Some years my High School band's parade was early enough that I could get back to town and play in the local parade with one of the fire department bands, and hopefully catch a glimpse of some of my old classmates, especially my Middle School crush.

When I was in high school the man I took private lessons from, who led the first Italian festival band I ever played for, had a heart attack in the street. The trombone player, who was my first teacher in fourth grade, picked him up and got him to the hospital, likely saving his life. A few years ago my teacher asked me to start playing for his band on Memorial Day. I had other commitments to another marching band I'd recently joined, but this man was the reason I was as good a player as I was. I owed him. My dad called the band leader we had been playing for in February to let him know about May and, despite the advance notice and our short association with his band, he got upset and kicked us out. It didn't matter. It wasn't long before we found our way in to other bands and the last few Memorial Days, we've had no less than three different bands requiring our presence. My dad takes on two jobs for two of the bands, while I've stayed with my old teacher's band and taken care of the two local jobs. Since his heart attack, my teacher hasn't walked with the band but usually shows up at the beginning to go over the music. The trombone player, my other old teacher, usually calls out the songs as we walk. This year, there was no sign of him at the 9AM parade and I asked his son where he was. At age 86, he's been in and out of the hospital with various problems due to his weak heart. If he stands his legs swell with fluid but if he elevates them, the fluid moves to his lungs. When we kicked off today and the trombone player called out “For FELIX!”, I was reminded of a scene in Brassed Off after the band leader takes ill and the band, on the verge of quitting, gathers to play outside the hospital. Like troops rallied for a fallen general, I think we all put our hearts into both parades we played today.

Memorial Day parades have become an odd trip in to my past. The band is made up of former students of my teacher, and I played alongside old teachers, classmates, parents of classmates, and siblings of classmates from a good sixteen years ago. I then spent eight hours at a barbecue one of my college friends was having for his daughter's second birthday. As we sat in his yard laughing, telling jokes, and going over which movies they thought I should see, it was another trip in to my past. I don't see my college friends anywhere near as often as I'd like. Today felt like reliving the best parts of my life in microcosm, and I'm glad to have lived where I am and known the people I've known.

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Today's title is taken from one of the many hilarious songs in Team America. Parker and Stone outdo themselves in a spot-on Bruckheimer spoof that smartly targets both political extremes in this country. Do we do more harm than good when we try to police the world? Is it ridiculous that Hollywood celebrities have such an influential voice in this country? Is Michael Moore a hot dog guzzling blowhard? For a film that's so offensive so often to so many groups, there's a lot of sly, smart commentaries here and from a technical standpoint, the puppetry is superior to the Thunderbirds. In this day and age of computer animation, it's easy to forget while watching the film that everything is real. Obviously this is in no way a children's movie, and I will warn people that as bad as anyone says the sex scene is, they have no idea. A friend told me it was the “filthiest thing” she'd ever seen, and halfway through I was thinking it wasn't so bad when something very, very, very wrong takes place. The soundtrack alone is worth the price of rental. The styles emulate those action films perfectly and by taking the ridiculous as seriously as those films do, it succeeds in being just as comedic, but on purpose.

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It has been three and a half days since I left my “normal” life and routine. Wish me luck as I start my work week with an early meeting tomorrow....