Homecoming: The Ties That Bind

The too brisk autumn air blew through the area. The multi-colored leaves on the trees provided brightness against the gray sky. I managed to get away from the minivan full of beer, brats, omelets, satellite dish, and TV tuned to ESPN. It was good to be at a place I once called home. Much has changed in the time since I was there on a daily basis. Old places gone, new ones taking their place. Many parking lots and streets have been razed to be turned into grassy plazas and more pedestrian paths.

You could hear the percussion section having their practice session. They were working on marching cadences. You'll always go into step when hearing a cadence, at least if you're an old bandsman. Tents were up celebrating various schools and activities. The band had one to celebrate 50 years of The Golden Girl, the best twirling position in the world. Many alumni were around some of very recent vintage. Others in the twilight of their lives. Yet all of us were a part of the Purdue family. We had shared a special common experience, though each of us shared it uniquely.

For my own memories of this far away home, I often don't think of Purdue as being a psychology major, as being a one time physics major, as being a Quad Dog. When I mention Purdue to others, my first thoughts of are of being in the band, that large family of purely voluntary musicians. We don't have a school of music, so everyone there wants to play. Everyone there was willing to be part of something bigger than what we were, something far older than what will are, something that will last far longer than we will.

How strong are the forces that rule this adopted family? Most of my closest friends, my adopted family, the people I care about, all marched in the band. Yet very few of those people were in school at the same time I was; most are all younger than I am. They were friends of friends and I was the old outsider to them. Yet the band is an accepting group. We accept our own, we protect our own, we adopt our own. I adopted this ragtag rowdy group, they adopted me as the resident old man. Our experiences in band are the ties that bind us together. The common traditions we hold dear are what makes us the same, regardless of the fact not all of us were together at the same time.

So really I have two adopted families in this case, the band as a whole, my friends specifically. Ultimately it is the memories I hold dear. I don't miss the work, but I miss the fun, I miss the people. The people are the memories, and Homecoming is a chance to relive them for a too short and fleeting time.

I can't wait until next year when we're back on the field in front of 65,000 people one more time. It's good to be young again in your home, for a little while at least.

It's a shame the damn football team laid an egg during the last 5 minutes of the game and snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. *sigh*