Memory (College) April 3, 2016
“College! Best years of my life!” I have heard people say. That’s not, how I remember it. For me, just not that way. Don’t get me wrong. Some parts great. But nothing, came easy. My scholarship. My only hope. Days, not light or breezy. Had to maintain, GPA. I did not have, money. Keep grades up. Or lose scholarship. For me. Grades weren’t funny. I admit. Loved the challenge. Competition, appealed. I burned the candle, at both ends. And yes, skipped lots of meals. I was, a music major. A challenge, in itself. Many, practice hours required. Had, to produce results. Dean of Music, lectured us. A large, talented class. “A few of you, will graduate. Most of you, just won’t last.” That moment. Became intense. Determined, to survive. Put all I had, into this task. Huge challenge, in my life. I was, a trumpet player. This was not, like high school. Everyone was good. Some were great. Talent and toughness, ruled. Rehearsals. Band. Orchestra. And Jazz Ensemble, too. Played in the “pit,” for musicals. Lips often swollen. Bruised. Became, the first chair trumpet. In orchestra, and band. Was at my peak, as a player. Some saw me, as “the man.” Prepared, for academics. The music courses, rough. No matter how much, I studied. Never, seemed like enough. Four years, in ROTC. So many, extra hours. The drills. Classes. Basic training. No weaklings. No cowards. Break up. Make up. My girlfriend. Always seemed, in turmoil. We struggled, to find happiness. Ecstasy, and recoil.
32
