Full Circle

When my kids were very little we often looked for things to do with them that didn’t cost much.  Free was best.  In the fall, on a Friday night, we could go over to the college campus to watch the marching band practice their routine for Saturday’s big football game.  They marched on the practice football field while we watched form the adjacent running track.  Many young families had the same idea.

We could listen to the band and watch them do their fancy footstep work while the kids would run around on the track.  Or play in the hillside in between the venues.  The band seemed to be pretty much oblivious to the spectators.  The baton twirlers and the flag line members got a little more amusement from us as they stood much closer and could see our antics up close.  But they would do their show in front of tens of thousands of spectators the next day so this was nothing for them.

We did this for years.  Then the kids got older and we moved further away.  The band changed its practice location and we just didn’t get there anymore.  We’d thing about it sometimes.  And on a Friday night you could be driving around town and hear their music form far off.  But we didn’t go anymore.

Until this weekend.  Maybe because this weekends game was huge and we wanted to get into the excitement.  Maybe we missed it.  Or maybe it was something to do until we did something better.  I don’t know for sure, bug we went to see the band do their practice thing.

It’s not near the track anymore.  Closer to the intermural fields, but there was plenty of room for sitting on the grass nearby.  We spread out blanket out, sat and watched and listened. 

My oldest daughter, quite the grownup now, was with us so in that way it was like the old days.  There were parents there with little kids who wanted to run around.  And people walking dogs.  And others watching and listening as we were. 

We were on the same level as the band so we didn’t get the birds eye view like we used to from the hillside, but it want too hard to figure out what was going on.  You just could see the formations they were actually making.  Gimmie a G!

It was the same, but different.  Nothing is ever the same.  I wasn’t expecting that.  I anticipated change, and wanted to see what it was.  Still the band.  Still marching and music.  It was just that my place in the circle had changed a little.

That’s part of my story.  What’s yours?  www.personalhistorywriter.com

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