It had been the year of years in 1997. Southern California marching band on the field was really starting to take off. More bands were becoming super competitive. Show styles were starting to become more sophisticated. And for a certain band from central Orange County, perhaps this year was the pivotal year in its long history that brought them from one level up to the next.
It started the previous spring, when several of us met in a director's home in Lake Forest, and started spitting out thematic ideas and listening to some music. Almost reluctantly, the music arranger said, "Well, I do have this video of a band from Colorado...", and the rest, as they say, was history. After the video was complete, I seem to remember being fairly hyped, but my inbred southern California marching band conservatism came to the forefront. "We can't do what THEY did--they were in COSTUMES for crying out loud!!" But the more we talked about it, the more we became convinced, or convinced ourselves more likely, that we could do away with the conventional marching band model, and think drill with theatrics.
We had no clue what can of worms we opened. We went into our planning meeting, listening to music and hearing our music arranger bursting out of his skull about the possibilities. We talked about set design (a foreign concept but something I QUICKLY liked), amplification, costuming, staging. And I remember talking specifically at my house about an effect I wanted. The previous spring I had traveled with this band on a spring tour to Walt Disney World, and part of the tour was a cruise. And on the cruise on stage, they had a "water" effect with these long strips of blue fabric that they waved up and down and scantily clad dancers frolicked about on stage. We all saw it, and so we thought we could put that into our show at the appropriate place. So the director naively said, "So, you want these strips to be what, about 50 feet long?" And I said what I STILL use today--but this is when I first used the term. I said, with great excitement, "FIFTY FEET?!?!? Are you crazy??? This has to be DISNEY big. You have to make the strips about 5 feet wide, and about 50 to 75 yards long." The director's eyes got wide, wondering how he could be asked if HE was crazy when I was talking GIGANTIC amounts of fabric. Yeah...I was talking that.
And it worked. But we didn't know it was going to work.
As the summer wore on, and I wrote the drill and started band camp, we started to feel as a staff that perhaps we had done the unthinkable. Perhaps this was going to all be just too much. We struggled mightily. We knew in order to get into the old TOC, we really had to step it up a notch both design wise and execution. But more importantly, we weren't going to look like a band. And considering conservative SCSBOA standards, we knew we had to be BETTER than normal to make sure there was NO DOUBT as to what we were trying to do--be a great marching band and to test the waters of envelope pushing.
The fall found us frustrated, once school began. I remember back to a rehearsal in particular, when after 13 years of being in marching band, I was knee deep in the first staff "blow up" I had ever been in. In retrospect, it was a healthy, very productive event that may have destroyed mere mortals. But we had an all star staff that fall, full of people that were beyond normal limits of passion and commitment to make this show work. And when faced with the possibility of not being complete for the first show, the line in the sand was drawn. Some of us didn't want to go on, and risk being dirty in the conservative world of SCSBOA, but others said we HAVE to push on to get a read and to find out even if we stand a chance.
I don't even remember what we did. I don't even remember what I argued. But I know at that time, remembering, that "blow up" occurred not because of ego, not because of posturing, but what was RIGHT for this band, for these students who we were LITERALLY pushing way beyond what they thought they could do.
I don't remember the first show. But I do remember we were killed. I remember that I had really begun to think we were sunk. I doubted my ability so much that I thought for sure I was going to be fired. I don't remember much other than working...and working...and working some more.
My memory might be jaded here, but I seem to recall that we were not a "competitive threat". Cute show was the feeling I think we were getting. The kids seemed to be enjoying themselves, but something was building inside of me. Something that only I could put into words.
We traveled to the Las Vegas HS show, the famous independent show that many of our bands from this area have participated in. We had no idea how it was going to be. We knew Upland, who suddenly had erupted as the next "big thing" in southern California was going to be there, but we had no idea what to expect. To make finals was going to be good enough for us. And little did we know what would happen. Our prelims performance was good, solid, but not without its issues. I can't remember what place we came in but we were dang happy to be there. We got to take a break after semi's, grab some food, and then come back for a warm up and a finals performance. It was during this warm up that I knew our band was losing focus, not caring how things went, and being difficult to get things rolling.
And then the sprinklers came on.
It was as if the gods of marching were attempting to keep us from our potential. And they almost won.
They didn't realize The H was in the house.
It was one of those moments that I wouldn't be able to tell you what I said, nor would I be able to show you how--how should I say?--intense I was with what I had to say. But I basically made sure that those kids knew they had a conscious decision to make--either continue down the road they were going, and let a #&$*ing SPRINKLER determine your success tonight, or, buckle down and start focusing. I believe that was the intent of the message. Don't know if it was my words or the fact that big vein in my forehead was pulsating like ET's heart, but I do seem to recall things got really quiet and really focused.
In a hurry.
We went out to that finals performance--I still have the judges tapes. To say we were on fire would be an understatement. But whatever the motivation was--maybe the kids hated my guts, maybe they were finally seeing the light, who knows--they turned it on. The crowd in the background of the judges tapes is, in a word, delirious. It was some of the best crowd response I had ever seen. I was beside myself on the track. I could barely contain myself. The outcome--3/10ths behind Upland, with a strong second place finish.
From that point on, competitively, the band believed in themselves. But I reminded them of where they came from, how band camp was a humbling experience for the staff, and how we were LIGHTYEARS beyond what we expected. Our next big show....SAVANNA.
10 years ago tonight, I sat in the pressbox, proudly announcing the Savanna Field Tournament. I can't remember if that was my first time ever announcing for them or not, but it was one of the first times for sure. This was back in the days when bands provided their own 1-minute warning announcers, so I was constantly handing the microphone off to some band dad or mom. For my band though, I was the announcer for them. And as they came on to the field, all the way up in the pressbox, I could sense an energy that only someone who had worked with them all summer and fall long could sense.
I have the video from that night. It was one of the most special nights in all of my life. Here I was, the stadium announcer, sitting alongside the row of judges who little did I know, I would be joining the ranks of a decade or so later. And it was all I could to keep from jumping out of my skin. I remember there were A LOT of people in the pressbox that were there because they had HEARD about this band, and wanted to know what all the hub bub was about. 9 minutes had never gone by so fast.
But as the drum major, who little did we know, would a short four years later, go on to be not only the drum major of the Santa Clara Vanguard, but WIN THE HIGH DRUM MAJOR AWARD at Drum Corps International World Championships, turned around and gave his final "dusty" acknowledgement to the crowd, and the final tribal beats ended, and the crowd absolutely went beserk, I could not contain my emotion. I literally yelled into the microphone, with the breaking in my voice as I tried not to cry..."Ladies and Gentlemen.....The Fountain Valley High School Royyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyalllllllllllllllllllllllll REGIMENT!!!!!!!!!!"
They went on to win sweepstakes that year at Savanna, and barely edging by Upland. That was the year as well that Thousand Oaks was a huge hit on the field, and we so looked forward to meeting them in the TOC. TOC never happened. If you recall, a major storm had come in the day before, and Eddie West Stadium was literally under about 6 inches of water on the field level. Nothing could be done. The field was beyond hope. And on top of that--I got forced by the Fire Department to go to work that day so I would have missed out.
The show? That was Fountain Valley's Waterworld Production. We based it off of Northglenn HS's adaptation from the year before at Colorado's State Championships. This was a show that was pretty important to southern California marching band. I believe it opened the door for costuming, something seen in bands like Western HS and Alta Loma and Riverside Poly. It set new standards for percussion staging. Amplification was used along with electronics, but TASTEFULLY and never to enhance instruments we didn't have. And it set a new standard, a new belief if you will in what COULD be accomplished at FVHS...and quite honestly, the Royal Regiment has never looked back. Fountain Valley was always a good band, but seemingly for the past 10 years, they've been a GREAT band.
Much of that success is accredited to its long time director Gary Wampler. His enthusiasm and kid-like approach and wonder to the field of band directing is contagious and he's able to attract the talent his kids need to help master the art of marching band. Wampler, or "Wamp" as we called him, has been at the helm for over 20 years at FV, and is a shoe-in for SCSBOA Lifetime Achievement Award, band directing's "Hall of Fame" here in southern California.
Oh yeah...the drum major from that year--Mark Irons. He now is the assistant band director at FV, and is in essence the heir apparent to Wampler. A more enthusiastic, knowledgeable, and caring person a band cannot find. Mark has been the special spark behind FV's dominance in recent years. And its safe to say, the Royal Regiment will continue with its success for years to come.
But...it was 10 years ago tonight...with tears in my eyes, seeing the culmination of months of dedication, and an incredible challenge to ME personally to strive to push me beyond what I thought I could do. I remember sitting up in that pressbox that night at the Savanna Field Tournament, and thinking that I would probably remember this night for years to come.
I just want to publicly thank Jon Steinwinder, who sent me just a few sentences in a message this evening remembering this night 10 years ago. He was that music arranger I talked about earlier. Jon and I had both heard of each other in the business for years before, in drum corps, in the youth band activity, in marching band, but we had never met, and certainly had never worked together. And since then, we have been good friends, but strangely, haven't worked together since then. Such is this beast called marching band. But thanks to Jon for reminding me of 10 years ago, to a show that took a WHOLE lot of work by a WHOLE lot of people to make happen.
I'll never forget it. And thanks to Wamp for letting me play!! |
