The Piping Circle

My favorite part of piping is the piping circle.

When we play, the pipers form a big circle, so that we can all hear each other's playing.  The more pipers, the bigger the circle. You can also see what everybody else is playing by watching their fingers, and see the tempo the Pipe Major is setting (with his foot).

Those are advantages of the piping circle, of course, but my favorite part is the camaraderie   The banter and teasing and joking that go on in the circle is more fun than a circle of monkeys! Nothing is sacred; everybody gets into the act.

Your place in the circle--varying from day to day--changes based on any number of decisions you or anybody else in the circle make. You might stand by your Circle Buddy. Maybe you got to the circle late, and the only place left is facing the flood lights, or next to the Pipe Major.

Evil Look

Next to the Pipe Major is not a favored position. When you are next to the Pipe Major, he (or she) will pick at every note you play.  You will be tuned more than anybody else in the circle, and you will get more evil looks than anyone else.

Here, Lee has the unhappy luck to stand next to the Pipe Major, and is getting tuned for the ump-teenth time.

If you are playing harmonies, you will not be allowed to stand next to the drum corps. Harmonies throw them off.

BFFs

You might end up standing across the circle from your Circle Buddy, in which case you can communicate with facial expressions, hand gestures, and body language. This is also visible to the rest of the circle, of course, to interpret as they will.

Your Circle Buddy is your BFF (Bagpiping Friend Forever). This person can also change from day to day, depending on who shows up for practice that day. I will usually try to stand near or next to one of the few other women in the band.  Mostly, however, they are newbies, and play a lot of wrong notes, which is distracting and can put me off my tune. Or, heaven forbid, I am off my tune to begin with, and play a lot of wrong notes, which is embarrassing.  But if you are standing next to a newbie, you can always blame it on them.

When you are preparing for competition, you will be assigned a place in the block when marching in, so that when you form the circle in the arena, you will be in anoptimal place:  all the newbies won't be together, the PM will be visible to the Drum Sargent, all the pipers playing harmony won't be together, but will be spread evenly around the circle, etc. It's all strategic to get an optimal sound.

The Power of Prayer

Last Wednesday,  I drove from work to band practice. It was a very windy day, and threatening rain. We were not sure if we were going to practice marching in the parking lot, or go inside.

However, when PM showed up, he removed all doubt:  "It's a perfect day for piping!"

So I got out of my car, made sure the door was locked, and went to the rear door to get out my pipes. It was also locked, as were the other two doors on the passenger side. Of course, my keys were inside the car.

Ugh!

I used to have a magnetic key holder inside the right front wheel well.  I felt around for it until my hand was good and black, then gave it up.

I was locked out.

My husband was on his bicycle, about 10 miles away.  When I called him, he said he would bike up the mountain to save me, but he didn't sound very happy about it.

I frantically tried all the doors again, and . . . .. WHAT?!?  The driver's door opened!  I swear it was locked before.  I had carefully locked it!  But it opened right up!

I told my Knight on his White Horse Bicycle that all was well, and to go on home.  At that point, Melinda came up to me and said, "I said a prayer asking that you would be able to get into your car."

I suppose if God can divide the Red Sea, he can open a little Hyundai lock if he wants to.  I am very grateful for that miracle! And for Melinda, who thought to ask for it.

There are no coincidences. 

Ventura 2012

To sum up:

I did not get such a good deal on airline tickets.

Ian did not get such a good deal on hotel rooms.

We did not have the tuning issues we'd had last year.

We took 1st in the March Medley, and 2nd in the Timed Medley!

Jack was not there to be our Drum Major, so I called him during a break. He was happy to be included.

Sande and I drove up from the Long Beach airport to Ventura with the two Roberts.  We stopped just before Ventura and got some camp chairs, as we all had failed to bring any to practice before we left for Dennis to drive out.  We got really lost in that little suburb, despite (or perhaps because of) the GPS we were using. It was pretty funny afterwards.

The best news was, of course, that our tuning went beautifully.  We were all nervous about it, so much so that PM had us tune up the night before across the street from the hotel.  That went OK, too.

And, a few days after we got back (20OCT13), WUSPBA (Western United States Pipe Band Association) Great Basin Branch, decided they were tired of us winning all the Grade IV competitions we entered, so they . . .

PROMOTED US TO GRADE III!

We are working busily on our new March/Strathspey/Reel for the Grade III competition next year.

Wa-hoo!

The Real Issue

A couple of Wednesdays after Ventura, and maybe a week after the Yelling Band Practice, my new-normal Wednesday left me feeling . . . ew. Not horrible, gut-wrenching, vomiting sick, but washed out in several waters and left on a rock to dry. I decided I didn't have the stomach to go through another Yelling session. So I called the pipe major and said I wouldn't be at practice as I didn't feel well.
He said, "OK, and I was going to tell the pipe corp. A lot of bands have been having issues with those reeds we're using. Issues with staying in tune and stuff. It's not just us. I've got some new ones on order. They should be here next week."
Uh . . . . .what? You mean it wasn't Operator Error like you've been saying (loudly) (and angrily)for the past 3 weeks? It was the REEDS?!!?
He sort of apologized for the yelling. Sort of. I let him off the hook, saying 'How was he to know', etc, etc.
But seriously. We went from really good players to horrible in a matter of days and he thought it was US?
The following week's practice was approaching normal. We were in the Dance Studio of the high school, as every place else was full (I felt like Mary and Joseph. And 12 shepherds, and 3 wise men, and a bunch of sad cows, and six little drummer boys.) Tuning went surprisingly quickly. We did well on our sets. I played the new tune, Athol and Breadalbane--all four parts--pretty well for a first time. The atmosphere inside the circle was light and almost-but-not-quite happy. I could tell there were still some pipers who just couldn't quite believe it was all over.
We'll see what happens after Thanksgiving.

Ventura 2011

It has certainly been a long time since I've posted, and I apologize. I have no excuse.

It has been a little over a week since the band got back from the Seaside Highland Games in Ventura, California. If you remember from last year, we took first in both events--even over Pasadena and University of California Riverside! Life was sweet.

This year I got us great deals on our airline tickets: $185 round trip per person! Band Manager Ian got a much better deal on our hotel, albeit it was a lower calibre hotel than last year. So we saved a lot of money. Bass Drummer and former Pipe Major Dennis took whatever luggage we wanted in the van to California so we wouldn't have to check it. Everybody arrived on time for the flight. Life was looking very good.

Last year, if you remember, our high-altitude acclimatized pipes and lungs had an easy time of it with blowing and tuning. It seems like we tuned once, and were in tune the rest of the day.

This year, we couldn't stay in tune for 5 minutes at a stretch. The issue could possibly have been related to the cooler weather (62F) on Saturday (8 October 2011). Or it could possibly have been our older, rather used chanter reeds. Or it could have been some other issue of which we wot not. We had definitely been improving over the year. We knew the tunes backwards in our sleep. We tuned and tuned and tuned and tuned. Whatever the reason, we sounded like a first year pipe band on Saturday. Nobody was in tune with anybody else. It was downright embarrassing!

We took 4th out of 5 bands.

Sunday, it was 10 degrees warmer (73F), and everybody tuned themselves frantically as soon as we arrived at the Ventura County Fairgrounds. Pipe Major Jason fine-tuned us in the shade of the nearest Quonset hut, and everybody was spot on . . . until we circled up in the sun. He accused us of blowing harder in the circle than we had in the shade. Blowing harder will make your chanter sound sharper. Blowing less will flatten the sound. I could understand if he was only accusing ME of that, because I used to blow rather irregularly. But EVERYBODY in the circle? I don't think so. As Charles Dickens said, we ". . . tuned like 50 stomach aches!", yet 20 minutes before we were to go on, we were still having tuning issues, as well as timing issues and wrong notes. People were definitely getting flustered.

At that point, I had been fine-tuned about 20 times that day, accused of blowing inconsistently, then tuned some more. I had had enough. I was tired of being tuned, of being frowned upon, of playing that same tune again . . . I decided to take myself out of the equation, to reduce the amount of tuning work for the PM, and to make sure I was (or was not) part of the problem. I walked out of the circle.

Instead, I walked around to the competition circle and filmed the band as they marched in and played the set.

They did sound fairly well tuned (although they hadn't immediately after I had left), but there were still timing issues and wrong notes, and I could have told you exactly who was guilty of those, but I won't. So I don't think I was the problem. I am going to try to attach a bit of the video. I can't send all of it as it is too long.

Sande, and Robert P., patted me on the shoulder afterward. Tyler (one of the best pipers in the band) commended me for my actions, told me I was a team player, and that there had been other pipers that should have withdrawn but did not, that it was a far braver thing I had done to take myself out of the equation than to play on. PM Jason told me I was not kicked out of the band. So it was OK.

On the way home, Robert treated Sande, Michelle and I to dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Long Beach someplace. It was very good. We discussed the whole thing, but could come to no definite conclusion.

As we arrived at the airport to fly home, we learned we had taken 3rd out of 5 on Sunday. Better, but not what we had hoped for.

We have yet to meet together as a band since the competition. That will be on Wednesday. I am very interested to hear what Jason will say about everything. I am very interested to know how tuning goes back in our dry high altitude. I am very interested to know if we will still get bumped up to Grade III as we were hoping. I am very interested to know what tunes we will be learning for our MSR (March/Strathspey/Reel) in preparation for our first Grade III competition--whenever that is.

It should be an interesting practice.

This is the part I hate the worst: waiting behind the curtain, listening to the hub-bub of the audience, and all of us waiting for the cue that starts the show.

I used to go all to pieces even thinking about a concert a week beforehand. I existed with a queasy stomach, jelly legs, and a cotton mouth. Warm-up the day of, lasting upwards of 3 hours, completely sapped my courage and strength. I used to do the concert on fear alone.

These days, I don't even have the concert at the back of my mind until the day before, other than scheduling it on my calendar. Warm-up and tune-up takes maybe 90 minutes, if that. I don't get nervous until we are lined up behind the curtain, with all the last minute mistakes and stage directions and Things I Must Remember Throughout This Concert And It Will Be Great-- up to and including the 3 Fs: Focus, watch the PM's Foot, and have Fun (which 3things sometimes cannot exist simultaneously)-- spinning around and around in my head. At this point, I have to really concentrate to force the Queasy Energy up out of my stomach, past my esophagus, and down my arms into my fingers, where it miraculously turns into muscle memory. Then my fingers play the concert, and I don't even have to think about the individual notes.

Then the curtain opens, the lights knife through the blackness, and we move out along its golden path into the Moment of the concert.

I'm sure that, for the audience, the time passes at the usual rate. For me, playing, it takes about 10 minutes per half, and then we are done: 7:30 to 9:00 in 20 minutes.

This year, tuning was minimal. Everybody must have done their Pipe Maintenance (checked for loose joints, replaced their chanter tape and tuned themselves up) beforehand, because Jason only tuned chanters once, and drones twice. The rest of the time we worked on staging, and ate. Dinner was provided by Dr. Rob.

Thanks for the sushi, Dr. Rob! Thanks for the cookies, Sister Shrum!

Thanks for the Pipe Maintenance, everybody!

I think I made about 4 mistakes during the concert when my focus slipped momentarily. Very slippery thing, Focus, especially when you are having a hard time keeping that Queasy Energy down in your fingers. But either Jason didn't notice, or he didn't mention it. I am grateful for either.

My husband, my brother and 75% of my children were in attendance, to say nothing of my friend-and-supervisor, Lori and her whole family. This is no excuse for being nervous.

But it all turned out well in the end. The audience was entertained, if not delighted. Lori was suitably impressed, and my brother was happy that I had known it was him yelling, "Wa-hoo" out of the darkness of the seats.

Resolved: to practice every day, either practice chanter, or pipes--or both--so that I will improve my playing and get that march memorized and perfected for the June competitions.

Happy Birthday to me.

I was born in a heat wave in the heart of summer.

My birthday was celebrated today.

Perhaps you noticed a discrepancy. Here's the story.

About a year ago somebody recommended to me that I should not put my actual birth date on Facebook to protect my identity. It sounded like a good idea to me, so I decided to change my date of birth. But what date to pick? I settled on the closest Leap Day to my actual date of birth: 29 Feb 1960, thinking it would only come up once every 4 years. I changed it, and completely forgot about it.

Life went on: Daughter #1 came home from South Korea. Daughter #2 got married. We won the Ventura games. Christmas happened. Small Son became a honest-to-goodness Scout.

This morning I checked emails and was INUNDATED with birthday greetings from Facebook, from work, church, piping, family (?) . . . Then I remembered what I had done all those months ago.

But that wasn't the end of it.

When I got to work, my co-workers had decorated my desk with balloons, streamers, and Happy Birthday greetings. One brought me dinner from Cafe Rio. Another brought a spice cake with cream cheese frosting. Everybody who walked by wished me happy birthday.

What could I politely do? I thanked everybody and hoped they wouldn't ask questions, but of course this kind of story gets out. I was terribly embarrassed. Thankfully, everybody took it as a great joke, and passed around the cake. Other people chose fake birthdays, too. For this crowd, my official birthday is now 29 February.

The moral of this story is: be careful what you do. Even the littlest thing will come back to bite you.