THIS MUST BE THE PLACE

By: Ashley Warren

            And so we’ve reached the end of another season. As I sit here at my computer, thinking about this season and everything that has happened, the one memory that sticks out more than any other happened little over two weeks ago. And it’s not about licorice, or mooses (meese?), or Planet Gabe, or even crouching monkeys (and it’s certainly not about football)...it’s about Band Day 2004.

            I’ll set the scene for you (which should be easy as most of you were there):it is approximately 8:30 PM on the evening of November 6, 2004 and we are approaching set 52, the last set. The set of the big bang. I’m thinking to myself, “this is it, this is the end”, and we stop, we play, and the stadium explodes. I’m covered in chills and goose-bumps from my head to my toes...and we fall. It is at this moment that I had an epiphany. As I lay looking up into the sky that was now covered with smoke and birds far ahead, hearing the screaming of 10,000 plus people who have just literally been blown away, breathing so hard that I don’t think I’ll ever stop, it hit me. I don’t even know exactly what “it” was, but it definitely hit me. As I was laying there, taking in all those things around me, I was suddenly at peace with the world and I just couldn’t take it anymore, I started sobbing uncontrollably. All I could think was “this must be the place, so this is what it means...”

            Throughout the whole season we’ve been told that every day we make choices and right at this moment I knew that I had made the right ones. It was one of those moments that stand out in a 1,000: when you know you’re alive without a doubt, you can feel it in every fiber of your being. This is where I belong, this must be the place, I’m never going to be in this moment again...and I didn’t want it to end. As we were marching to old 80 count, tears streaming down my face, I knew I was leaving behind something special on that field. Something that I will remember for the rest of my life. It may not have been perfect, but it was amazing. It is for moments like these that I’m in the Pride of Arizona, because of all the people in the world at this moment in time, I know you understand what I’m talking about and that you feel the same way in at least a small part of your brains. Why else would we be here? After all, it is only a marching band...

            Something changed in me this year: it was the first year I actually gave my all. I’m one of those people (or should I say “used to be”) who’s just along for the ride, to see where life takes you. I was born a complainer and am lazy by nature, but being in this band, with people who are most definitely not lazy or complainers, has changed the way I look at things. I’m still me, but with extra special fun attached. I can’t even really explain how the Pride has changed who I am, but I know that it definitely has. Even from last year, I know that I am different. I actually enjoyed working hard this year and I even ran it back...how bizarre is that? I know many of you see me as the comic relief, if you even know who I am at all, but I’ve gotta tell you, that’s just a part of it. Simply put: when I’m happy, the insane, animal noise-making, stupid story-telling, obnoxious me comes out. And band makes me happy. I LOVE being in the Pride of Arizona.

            In conclusion I would like to thank some people for making this year unforgettable. First of all to the clarinet section: you guys rule all, even if nobody else thinks you do, it is important to remember that I am a clarinet and that’s all that matters. To my graduating seniors: Andrew, Jen (clarinet at heart!), and Adam, you will be so missed it’s not even funny. And yes, Andrew, underneath that sarcastic exterior I just know there’s a heart of gold that is screaming “I LOVE BAND!” even as your mouth proclaims otherwise. To Phillip, the illustrious section leader: you are so weird, but thanks. And to all my other friends in the POA...you’ve lent support to me in ways you don’t even know, just by being there and by playing Band Yell at football games (I love that song!). And last but not least, Professor Rees...I know that you see me as Ashley “Bicycle” Warren and most likely a klutz (which I am), but I just wanted to give you a special thank you. Before I met you, I did not know that so much insanity and passion for life could exist at the same time in one person. Frankly, you scare me a little bit. But you also inspire me to work harder than I ever have in my life and give it all, even when my brain wants to lay down and take a nap. Oh, and thanks for Elfman, it rules. And to those of you who don’t know me, you get to be thanked just because you are cool enough to be in the Pride of Arizona. So here’s to bittersweet endings and to new beginnings. Until next year: see you at band camp!