The Newly-Initiated Music Geek's Guide to Musical Season

bandgeeks_havefeelingstoo breaks down the pros and cons of high school theater, from french fries and Frosties to whiny pits!—Sparkitors

I began high school as a lowly freshman, afraid of the world. I emerge after a semester as a lowly-if-not-lowlier freshman—who’s finally discovered her scene: the music nerds.

Perhaps you’ve encountered us. We can often be found during the beginning of the year wearing shoulder-padded jackets and walking around in geometric formations for no discernable reason. (A side note—we have yet to discover the real purpose of shoulder pads. We think they may be some part of a mating ritual) That’s the marching band for you.

But what’s a bandie to do when marching season—and yes, it’s not football season, it’s marching season—is over? Hang up our band parkas (that look delightfully like Death Eater robes), put our instruments away, and sign up for the school musical, of course.

Pros to life as a musical theater geek:

- The auditorium becomes your second home. We can tell you which pianos can comfortably support your weight and which most definitely cannot, and which ones the music director will kill you if you so much as think of putting your butt on them. We know where to best position your marimba for the brightest tone, and which section of the seats has the best view of stage left—because that’s where all the action is, you know.

- You know everyone and everything. That boy who’s the male lead? During auditions, he was dating the girl who’s the female supporting role. After getting his part, he dumped her for the female lead, so as to better “assimilate his character.” You will have found out this information before said female supporting role, and possibly more disturbingly, you will understand what he means by “assimilate his character.”

- You will know every single line, lyric, and stage direction of your show. This is particularly nice if a lead messes up at a rehearsal, because you can primly raise your hand and say, “Pardon me, O Great and Powerful Director, but I believe so-and-so said his/her line incorrectly. If I may be so bold as to correct it, the proper line is...”

- The way you talked in that last scenario is in no way weird. Neither is snap-walking down the hallway like in West Side Story, or trying to convince your history teacher that “Everything’s Alright” by crooning said song to her after missing one of her tests in order to perform a matinee for a bunch of grade-school kids. At least you have that fellow theater kid in your history class to put in the harmony part for you.

Of course, every lifestyle has its cons:

- You know everyone and everything. This comes as a mixed blessing. Example: what are you supposed to tell the ensemble girl who’s crying on your shoulder because her boyfriend broke up with her, when you know he left her for the stage crew assistant director—who’s a guy? Gasp! Like every community, musical theater has its share of scandal.

- You will know every single line, lyric, and stage direction of your show. That means if you mess up, the director, the cast, and that girl in your biology class you constantly rave about the musical to will know. It also means that these songs can and will pop into your head at any time, and become impossible not to sing out loud. Anything might spark your memory of your dialogue, at which point you’ll launch into a one-man recitation of the entire show. Symptoms last for at least a year, sometimes longer.

- Marathon practices. And by marathon, I mean marathon. Try 3 PM until 8. And as a pathetic freshman who’s tied down by lack of driver’s license, make a friend who can drive, so they can get you your Frosty-and-french-fries fix. On a totally unrelated note not at all drawn by my own experiences, make sure said license-enabled friend is not a drummer. When your nerves are shot and you have musical jargon running through your mind, having someone tap their fingers at you while you shove a Frosty down your throat is not an environment I’d advise you to place yourself in, for both your safety and that of the unsuspecting drummer/chauffeur.

- You have to listen to the pit complain. Yes, pit band, we love you, and yes, we realize our show couldn’t exist without you. That said, could you, I don’t know, maybe learn the music?!

Sigh. It’s a lead-eat-first-supporting-role world out there.

Are you a music nerd? Which kind? Band geek? Theater dweeb? Sassy female lead?

Related post: What It's Like Being a Band Geek