I was in the eight grade.
He was in 7th.
He played the snare drum for the school band.
I didn't.
I didn't play any instrument.
My brief time with the clarinet ended when school let out for the summer in 6th grade.
I was not to be detered.
I had fallen in love
I had seen him in the school yard or passing through the halls.
With his blonde hair and John Denver glasses.
A part of me thought
If he got to know me, he would like me.
I don't even know where the crazy idea came from.
Looking back now, it felt almost like a dare.
Someone suggested the glockenspiel.
The band had one. A huge metal thing.
Seemed like a simple plan. The band director entrusted me with the instrument, some sheet music and a plastic wand.
It was the thing I needed to get me into the percussion section.
There were early morning band practices
and after school band practices.
I had to carry that thing back and forth to school.
I lugged it around for months.
Nothing ever became of that love affair.
Or my musical career.
Years later a friend called me at home on a Friday night.
She said,
Quick, turn on the t.v.
It was one of those hourly news magazine.
They were profiling a rock & roll band trying to make it big.
The blonde hair was short and the glasses were different.
But he was still playing the drums.