Ramming into me yet again, he lets out an unearthly sound. It's a mix between a soprano opera singer from The Barber of Seville and a dying cow (one that's been tortured). He's old and decrepit. Like the crisp remains of yesterday's toast, he has an unbelievably dark tan. We continue to march drill set #2, then take it back to set #1 to add in the music. This time he rams himself into Danielle. "Move faster!" he orders with his freakishly strange voice, as he barbarically smacks her in the arm with his drill charts and snaps a shot with the camera in his other hand. He's the dinosaur in his seventh year of college. Yes, you guessed it, it's Frank.
[Note: By a stroke of luck I was able to uncover traces of Clipper (see "subject E" below) communicating with Frank through a visual message.]
Frank (subject A) is a prime example of the just one of the many people you come to know and love in marching band. Diversity is widespread, even exclusively looking at my own section. Observe subjects B and C, or Danielle and Genine, who put on their spiffy, marching band uniforms and poof! They magically (and proudly) transform into men (Dan and Gerald). For those new to marching band, most uniforms unify the band by making all members look like men. I, myself, turn into Melvin.[Fun Fact: Half of the piccolos in the following picture are female.]
We now move onto subjects D and E, two actual males, Buttons and Clipper. Have no fear, their parents didn't place a bet on whose child would get made fun of more in grade school; those names are surnames. Clipper has been in the piccolo section for three years and is a role model of the ages. His music is always memorized and his low and high chair styles are impeccable. Buttons, on the other hand, is marching piccolo for the first time after marching sousaphone all past years. Clipper is an outstanding player and marcher, while Buttons tends to slack a bit but comes through the very last second. Then again, what can you expect from a tuba?
[Note: In my extensive field study, I stumbled across this intriguing find. Perhaps Buttons should take a shot at marching one of these: a pocket piccolo tuba.]
There are many more fascinating subjects in the piccolo section, but we must press onto the final subjects: the section leaders. In their natural habitat of the drill field, we study the behavior of Emmeline and Jerry: two of the most lovable people I know. As heads of the piccolo hierarchy, they have taught marching and music style, scolded those who failed to perform said style, and protected the section from any predators. Commonly seen dancing wildly to the show music, they seem to keep us all in line somehow (yes, even Frank). And the beautiful thing about this all is that the section can trust them 100%. There's a multitude of phyla in the band (and then there's Frank), but one sure conclusion that I've reached is that you'll never be bored when you're part of a marching band.
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