| Subject: Re: Message from Big Daddy |
Author:
Bob Teal
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Date Posted: 06:25:38 03/25/03 Tue
In reply to:
Charles Kuentz
's message, "Message from Big Daddy" on 03:38:03 02/22/03 Sat
Dear Mr. Kuentz,
I would never, even in my wildest dreams, imagine that I was one of your favorite pupils. I am sure that I did make some of your days more interesting though. I was fortunate enough to be there at the very beginning of your days at John Marshall. I was also fortunate enough to have been in your presence the year before you came to J. M. H. S., during my eighth grade year at Hobby Middle School. Oh, we go way back.
Since graduating in 1979 (by the skin of my teeth I must say), I have from time to time looked back in my mind and relived some of my high school memories and waxed poetic about my four-year stint with the John Marshall Ram Band. It was after all, the only real notable accomplishment of my academic career. I must say too, like many of the other posted testimonials I have read, that of all the teachers that I had during my days in the public school system, you had the most profound effect on me. You showed me (and many other kids) many honorable traits. You were intense, honest and caring.
From my perspective, I thought ‘Hey, didn’t everybody get kicked out of band rehearsal at least once a year’. But after thinking about it a little while I realized that I was exceptional, I mean, the exception.
I’ll never forget the day that, I mean, one of the days that I was asked to leave a rehearsal. I was sitting quietly in the back of the band hall with my fellow tuba players while you were going over some musical passage with either the flutes or the clarinets. Any member of a concert or symphonic band knows being in a large band like this requires patience. You have to be able to sit quietly while the director works with other sections of the band and be ready to go when you are called upon.
I was sitting next to Jon H. (we’ll leave out last names to protect the innocent). I was sitting on a standard school issue brown folding chair while Jon was sitting on one of the larger, much taller, clunky metal stools. Actually I was situated behind Jon. We were wearing our sousaphones at the time. We must have just come in from the practice field. Anyway, Jon was wearing a pair of overalls that day and had unhooked the straps on his overalls to get more comfortable. I must have gotten bored while sitting there because I suddenly grabbed one of the overall straps and tried to tie it to one of the legs of the metal stool upon which Jon was sitting. I tried a few times but it kept slipping off. Jon finally noticed that I was up to something turned around and gave me a look that said, “Hey, knock it off, bonehead!” I gave up and figured it wouldn’t stay tied. A few minutes later you announced that you were ready for the entire band to join in and you wanted the tubas to stand up for this one. It was only then that the missing element to my overall strap/metal stool connection attempts was added: the necessary tension. Suddenly, for what seemed like an eternity, the stool on which Jon had been sitting, was now swinging to and fro from Jon’s rear end, all the while hitting and bouncing off the floor, clunking and clanking. Jon, thinking quickly, bent his legs at the knees and pretended to be standing while he was actually sitting on the now stabilized stool. By this time, all of the eyes in the band hall were now focused on the rear of the band hall. You used your lighting quick Sherlock Holmes like skills of deductive reasoning and barked out “Rabbit, did you do that?” to which I replied sheepishly, “Yes sir.” You then instructed me to put up my horn and leave. As I was putting up my tuba on the back shelf I remember how you accurately explained to the rest of the band what had just happened. You said “Rabbit thought it would be funny if he tied Jon's overall strap to his stool so that when he stood up it would interrupt our rehearsal”. As I was making my way to the exit on the clarinet/trumpet side of the band hall, I felt dejected and ashamed. I remember as I walked past Mr. Briggs who was standing near the top of the stairs. I looked up at him and he had a grin on his face and looked like he trying really hard not to bust out laughing. I knew at that moment that everything would be all right and tomorrow would be another day in Band land.
You always seemed to forgive me for letting my stupid hang out. I am forever grateful. Thanks for the memories and God Bless.
Robert "Rabbit" (now Bob) Teal
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