Two Promises to My Grandfather: A Progress Report

I owe my Grandfather a debt of gratitude for many things, and I shall until the day I die. This man, approaching 90 faster than I’m approaching 30, has served as an inspiration to the family, the civic community of La Cañada, the Presbyterian church, and Kiwanis International chapters spanning the country. I could write a book about him… oh wait, he’s already done that. I heard from Alex a while ago that he’s drafted an autobiography, although I’ve never heard him mention it. I made a promise to my grandfather about a year ago; actually a couple. One was to play the finale to a Tchaikovsky symphony (5th?) at his funeral. Maybe I can give a quick eulogy and just kick up the sound system and shoot off some fireworks. He also mentioned that it shouldn’t be a time of mourning over his death. He wants a celebration of his life. I can picture it: Everyone he has ever known or who has been positively affected by his life spread over a vast hilltop overlooking the city. Maybe above Cherry Canyon on a clear day. Not a funeral home or cemetery. He needs a proper wake. An awakening. A celebration of passing to the even greater things that he is to become rather than the end of who or what he was. I better start putting some thought into this if I’m to honor his request.

Anyhow, the second promise I made during our year and a half together was somewhat more comprehensive. It was to simplify my life and start paying more attention to the things that mattered (see previous blog). A daunting task facing any twenty-something, but it involved a series of critical steps, amounting to something I believe I’m prepared to face: turning into an adult. Since making that promise, I’ve moved out of LA, made a major positive career move, and rid myself of the motorhome (that one hurt). This transition took a step backward when Lo and I split, but I’m progressing.

Next on the list was supposed to happen a while ago. It was a decision made around early November, during the 3 months of silence that came after I wrote that email applying for a DM spot... just before my name was, unbeknownst to me, printed next to the title of Drum Major for '05. So here it is. I’m backing away from the Renegades after this season closes. It’s time to move on. Things have changed, and not just with me. Admittedly, I’ve not lived up to my potential as a Drum Major, but getting closer to the politics behind the scenes has revealed a lot of rather disenchanting management techniques. The Renedrama is waring on me, and I believe it's a result of helter-skelter structure and processes. True, it's all a part of the growing pains associated with a maturing organization, but the dynamic duo, the visionaries Chris and Lee, they need a general manager to run things right. I believe they have one in Greg as long as they don't burn him out. He's got the energy, the resources, and the skills. He is management material, if not the best conductor in the world, but above all, he's an inspiration and a positive role model to many in the corps.

Mitch gave some sound advice a while back; when you’re fed up with a hobby, put it down for a while. Come back when you miss it. Marching in the corps has become less of a fun hobby for me, and more of a stressor. I’m not out for good. As long as the corps survives, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to die any time soon, I’ll be around. Maybe do a year or two later on, take a couple off, come back, that sort of thing. On that note, I miss photography. The outdoors. Backpacking the Sierras in the summer. The beach and body-boarding. I miss my weekends. I’ve missed music festivals and time with my non-corps friends. And, frankly, I miss learning. I had a lot of other hobbies before the Renegades. I’ve also been thinking about taking some entrance exams and writing up some applications for grad-school. My brother has been hounding me for a few years on that one, and I’m starting to feel that it’s time. All-in-all, I think this will be a good thing.

Thank you, Grandpa.