marching band memories

I attended my grandson's first band concert of the season this evening.  It was inside, in a crowded gym, with lots and lots of proud parents and grandparents in attendance and it was fun to see and remember the early stages of the cycle.  The sixth, seventh, jazz and eight grade bands played and they actually did very well.  I'm always fascinated to hear the progression from 6th to 8th grade.  It's amazing how they develop.  My grandson is in 7th grade and in two years he'll be in marching band, and then the real fun begins for his parents.  Maybe they'll be pit parents like my husband and I were, enjoying long loud jouncy bus rides - I'm sure there's a correlation between riding school buses in your youth and developing back problems - but I digress. Then helping to unload, and later re-load, the incredible amount of instruments and other stuff that go into making a great band show, and making sure everything gets on the field with precision timing so your band doesn't loose points for your ineptitude.  Being a pit parent is not for wimps!  I'm so glad I'm a grandparent now and can just go along and enjoy the show.  I've paid my dues.  Bring on the band!