Homecoming ‘0Senior

Yesterday was quite a long day, and even so, ~8 hours of sleep were sufficient.

It’s kinda funny. I remember two years ago, when coming off the field from the area marching contest, I was feeling pumped. And then we got dumped, and I felt sad. But after coming off the field, I was about as close to crying as is reasonable for a guy (which is still pretty far away; even so…). This contest really didn’t matter all so much, and I’m not really sure what I was feeling, but it was definitely weird. I’m thinking that I’m a lot more emotionally-invested this time. Not to say I wasn’t for New World. There’s just something about being responsible for it. Now, as a senior DI, performance matters. In a lower position, there’s always that diffusion of responsibility. You’re, literally, just one member of a giant crowd on the field, and you can only do as much as you can. As a leader, there’s that extra element, where you want to see how all that hollering and direction-giving pays off. About all I do know is that whatever that feeling was, it felt good.

Homecoming – Fairley version:
Homecoming was fun.

Homecoming – My version:
Homecoming was a lot of fun.
It’s a wonder to me why evenings like this last are so prominent. When I think about it, all we did was dress up in formal clothes (alright, that’s simplifed; sorry girls for not fully describing your painstaking journey), take pictures at the gazibo, drive around to a restaurant and the school, eat with our friends, dance to some unusual music, and then have a party at someone’s house. I’m pretty sure that when we (we=band) go to the 40 football games over the year, we pick up and put on formal uniforms, take pictures at the game, drive in a bus to Rhodes, eat in the cafeteria with our friends, sousaphone dance in the stands, and then occasionally have a section party the day before or after. About the only difference is that after HC, my butt pocket felt a bit lighter (oh, but was it worth it!).
But from a point of view, our entire life is an exercise in warding off stagnation, and of the worst sort is boredom. Boredom, of course, can only be cured by varied experiences, and HC is certainly a different event, regardless of similarities noted above. It’s those similarities (perhaps not those specifically mentioned, but you know what I mean) that make both events so much fun. It’s the differences, though, that made HC special.
Of note, teenagers are pretty unusual in their attraction towards making fools of themselves. And what else would I be talking about, but dancing? There’s an opportunity for one to induce a purposeful and conscious seizure. I’m pretty sure that when monkeys dance, people post it on googtube for others to laugh at and ridicule. The line between us and monkeys is pretty thin, I must say.
But there goes that exercise of life. People seizing the opportunity to do something they wouldn’t normally do, to get that new experience. I must say, for a majority of high school, I haven’t been much of a fan of dancing. I like to think I’m not extremely self-conscious. Yeah, I have enough inhibition to walk over to the kleenex box instead of apply finger to nose, but I’ve never really minded doing the unusual (“You messed up!”) or unpredicted. Back to life again, though. Of course I’ve changed over the past couple years, and perhaps dancing is just another manifestation of this gradual process.
I almost typed “of maturing”, but then I just ‘membered that I’m the guy who still thinks that the bunny ears for pictures is funny.

And thank you again, Michelle, for a wonderful evening. It was entirely my pleasure.

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