The Piano Man Incident

One of my friends loaned me Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, so I'm reading it on the train. (Decent train reading, by the way. I find that short stories and essays make the best train fare. Also, this was free, and I will read just about anything I can get my hands on. I am a train book junkie.) Anyway, I just read the essay about Billy Joel (the whole premise of which is that Billy Joel is the only rock star who has managed to become a rock star without ever being cool), which reminded me of an incident from high school.

The Billy Joel Incident takes place on a marching band bus. My high school was not normal. Out of 1200 students in my high school, approximately 150 were in the marching band/color guard. Not that this made marching band cool, but it wasn't uncool, either. It just kind of was. Some people were in it, and some people weren't, and some people were way too into it, but it basically didn't matter where you fell. It also meant that a lot of the stereotypes about what sort of kid joins the marching band weren't true for my high school. Or, they were but there were a lot of other kids, too. The stoner guys who played drums or guitar in some crazy band on the weekend, the big eff-up who built his own monster truck, even a couple cheerleaders and football players were in the marching band.

We used 7 buses to transport the band and equipment to competitions, and you had to sign up to take the same bus all year, so the chaperones would be able to find you. (This replaced the old system of jumping onto the first bus you saw and then signing a sheet. The usual fake-name hijinx ensued, and my sophomore or junior year there were a couple chaperones who just never caught on to that...so change was inevitable.) People more or less coexisted but obviously wanted to be on a bus with people from their own clique. Most of the buses were pretty predictable: most of the guard rode on the same bus, most of the drummers did as well. And then there was
bus 3.

Bus 3 filled with cliques following stream of conscious, or possibly dream logic. (Two drum majors were friends, so all they signed up for a bus with their friends...and one of them was dating a piccolo player, so all the piccolos signed up for the same bus, and the other drum major figured she should be on that bus, so she signed up with her best friend who played the tuba, so the other tubas signed up...and none of these people got along.) By the second or third trip, people were literally climbing over the seats to beat each other up. I still don't know why the chaperones allowed this, or if they were just so dense that they never caught on. It's one of those
crazy things that happens when you're a kid, and it's cool at the time, and then when you're just a little bit older, you think "how did I get away with that? who was supposed to be watching me?"

The Billy Joel incident happened after the last competition - the big state competition at Giants Stadium. We had done pretty well the year before with a Copeland show (if you've ever been in marching band, you know that Copeland shows always score well). We placed in the top 20, and we had a great show. It was a Gershwin show and there were a lot of crazy things going on. Dancing and playing instruments we made out of pipes and trashcan lids and rotating boxes. It was craziness. That also meant that there were a lot of things that could go wrong. And, in retrospect, it was the year that our director planned a lot of really difficult, experimental stuff that didn't go over well with the judges. (This wasn't just the marching band, but my story is about the marching band, so I'm trying really hard not to get sidetracked.) The show didn't go very well. So we all got back on the bus, and everyone was just pi55ed. No one was talking. No one even wanted to beat each other up. It just wasn't fun anymore.

One of the guys in the back had a radio. He normally used it to find a Yankees game or some obnoxiously loud rock music. Then everyone else would yell at him until he turned it down. That day, he was fiddling with the radio at some obnoxious volume when he happened across Piano Man.

And everyone started singing.

Not just a little uncomfortable muttering the words, this was full-on preschool Wheels on the Bus abandon from people who barely wanted to share a vehicle and definitely did not share a taste in music. It was a moment.
It was magic.

As soon as the song ended, it was gone. People started yelling for him to bring the music back, or turn the radio down...but it didn't work. We were already back to talking with our friends and hitting each other. Same as it ever was, which I suppose was magic in a way since we had all been so morose a moment before. And then we got off the bus and got on with our lives. I don't remember discussing the incident with anyone. It happened, and then it was just gone - poof - into the ether.

Brilliant idea for cryptograms.

The day just flew at work, which was wonderful. I bought a calendar at Borders over the weekend because all calendars have been marked down to $1. (Our favorite Thai/Malaysian restaurant is right next to a Borders, so we often browse while we're waiting for our order.) Anyway, I bought a cryptograms desk calendar. I figured that I could use it to amuse myself when things are slow at work, and if I copy over the cryptogram, I might actually look like I'm doing work! I'm not a huge fan of cryptograms, by the way, but they'll do if I'm bored.

Anyway, while I was working out a cryptogram and reading a healthcare listserv, it hit me...wouldn't the best cryptograms be ones that can replace letters in words so that they form new words? I don't even know if that's possible, but I kind of want to try. THEN I thought it would be a good idea for a blog if I could create cryptograms of recent headlines, and the solution would point you to the article.

This is how bored I am, people.

In other news, I have to present our ESAT team's recommendations to the director this morning. I'm not too worried, particularly because I have a dopey section to present. It's short and stupid and obvious, so maybe I'd better worry a little bit more about adding something useful to someone else's section of the presentation. Hmm...can't worry too much, the presentation's at 9:00.

Then this afternoon I have a "one on one" with my manager, which I suppose is going to be about my goals for this year. We'll see. We all have them - even the girl who doesn't technically report to my manager anymore - so I'm sure we'll circle up later.